Starting Over
by Flatfoot88
Summary: I feel that Peter Parker settled for Mary Jane, and now he realized it, and he's looking to start over.  Any and all types of reviews are welcome.  Revisions have been made to the chapters so far published.
1. Starting over

Starting Over

I think that it goes without saying that the only thing I own in regards to fictional writing is this story plot, and nothing else. Spiderman, and all of its characters are owned by Marvel, or Stan Lee, or whoever holds the power. As for the story itself, I wrote it simply because I feel that Spider-Man settled for Mary Jane, when he could've done so much better. So, enjoy.

New York, Manhattan specifically. If you've ever been there, the name alone makes you think of a giant bustling metropolis. A place where cars are constantly flying down the streets. A city where there are so many lights that it turns night into day. A city that watched a terrible tragedy happen years ago near the end of summer, that forever changed the country.

Most people spend days touring the city, and always looking up. They look up at the skyscrapers, and realize just how _small_ they are in the world. Everyone else, the people who live there though, just try to go about their lives. They go to there nine to five job, head home, and get up to do it all over again. And a certain reporter was asking himself, 'why'?

Peter Parker was taking the long walk home from the local college where he was now working. It wasn't the high end, Ivy-League career he was looking for, but it was honest work, and it beat just selling photos of himself to the Daily Bugle. He looked up, it was evening, and while he had his preferred evening wear with him, he had chosen to walk home. The reason why was that it would take him substantially longer to get there. So that he wouldn't be smirking too much when he walked through the door.

For the past few weeks, he and the love of his life, Mary Jane, to but it lightly had been having 'problems'. It was always over the same thing, his 'after-work' activities. He had just come home, and was rather proud of himself. He had stopped to muggings, and an attempted rape. Sure, the rapist had gotten in a few good hits, and yeah, he was even able to slash him across the chest with a knife. But Spider-Man had won, and the guy was strung up from a street pole, while the woman ran home, screaming her thanks.

When he dragged himself through the window to their apartment, he moved quietly, so as not to not wake his sleeping love. He crept to the bathroom, and closed the door behind him. He pulled the shirt off, and examined the slash. He knew it would scar, but was thankful that he didn't have to get it stitched shut. That hurt like hell, and his stitches were almost never even.( Author's Note: This is true, I have stitched myself shut, and the scars are just ugly.) Grabbing the bottle of peroxide, he doused himself, hissing because of the sting, but glad that it was clean.

"Peter," he turned to see MJ standing there, with a look of utter terror on her face. He merely smiled, and placed the bottle back in the cabinet behind the mirror.

"I'm fine MJ, he just grazed me," he said, walking out of the room. He wandered to their bed and laid down closing his eyes, not even bothering to change out of the bottom half of his costume. He sensed her presence near the bed. And opened one eye to see her glaring at him, anger and fear in her eyes.

"Peter," she whispered. He noticed that she had sat down on the bed and took his hand in hers, and he dreaded at what was coming. "I want you to stop doing this." He groaned, pulling his hand from hers.

"MJ, we talked about this, I just can't stop-,"

"Why NOT!" She yelled, this caused his to lean back slightly. He knew that she was just worried for him, who wouldn't be. But the way she was acting, it was surprising to him. "I stay up all FUCKING night, worried that someone is going to find you dead in an alley, or worse. Someone, Doc Ock, the Kingpin, Venom, will be standing in the middle of Times Square with your head on a stick, cheering that you are DEAD!" He was angry now, how could she think he was so weak, that he could be brought down so easily. Peter had proven time and again that he would win, that he would only bend, and never break. He had even told her exactly why he did this every night.

"You think that I wanted this life?" Peter whispered back to her. "I never wanted this life!" He could feel his temper rising. "All I wanted was a normal life, to have a girlfriend, to go to college, and get married, get the little house with a picket fence. But NO WAY!" He was screaming now, and a small part of him was glad that she was now backing away, now on the defensive. A small part that was growing steadily larger. "I was given these gifts, and wasting them cost me my Uncle, the man who for all intents and purposes was my father. I made a promise to him that no one would ever have to suffer what happened to me, and I DAMN sure plan to keep it." He rose, walking back to the bathroom to retrieve his mask and upper suit.

"WHERE the HELL do you thing you're going!" She yelled, storming after him as he approached the window. He turned back to her, and let MJ feel the venom in his voice.

"To get some air." He leapt from the window, and fired a string of web-line, desperate to be anywhere but there. He could hear he yelling as he passed their neighboring building.

"WE'RE NOT FINISHED!"

When Peter had come home before sunrise, she was asleep, but he could feel her anger at him. For the next two weeks, they kept up the same argument, and each time it ended the same, with him walking, or in most cases, web slinging away. So he was surprised when he got her message on his desk phone.

'_Peter, I know we've been fighting, but I want you to come home right after work, I think I know what we have to do. I love you, MJ.' _"Thank God she's seen the light," he muttered. When he got to their building, he was almost taking the stairs three at a time. Peter was excited, they could now put all of this behind them. As he opened the door, he closed it with a smile on his face, and was surprised at what he saw.

Peter saw Mary Jane, sitting at their bed, with his old battered suit case. "What's going on MJ?" He asked, already dreading the answer. She stood up, taking the case in her hand and walked towards him.

"Peter, I can't do this anymore." She handed him the case. To Peter's credit, he didn't start to yell, or cry, he simply stood there, understanding what she was saying. Hell, you didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out that she was dumping him _and _kicking him out of _their _apartment.

"So, this is it huh?" He said, digging out his key and throwing it onto the floor. "I guess you need the normal life right?" He turned and headed towards the door, surprised that he wasn't more upset. Inwardly, he smiled slightly. He always had a feeling that they were never going to last. He just never had the heart to give her up. He had been being selfish, lying to her, telling her he still loved her so that she wouldn't leave. But now that she wanted him gone, he was actually feeling better about himself.

"That's all you can say, 'so this is it'. I'm breaking up with YOU!" Peter turned towards her yell, and found he didn't have the energy to argue. He simply nodded, and continued towards the door.

"Mary Jane," he turned to look at her one last time. "I'm sorry, but I just don't care anymore." He watched as his words slowly, very slowly, sunk into the redhead. But sure enough, second the gears started turning, he could feel her rage beginning to flow. "I thought we could work through this, but I guess that a few weeks ago, that fight was the last. Good luck." He smirked then. "Stay out of trouble, the last thing I want is to save my ex from some super-criminal."

"You BAST-," he didn't let her finish as he closed the door. He walked calmly down the stairs of the apartment complex. When he reached the bottom, and exited the building he stood outside feeling free. Peter realized now that he had settled for the redhead, Mary Jane. Sure, she was nice, and beautiful, but that seemed to be all she was. She lacked substance, intelligence, and rarely challenged him. Just once when he would've come home, would it have killed her to ask, 'how did everything go tonight?'

"OW!" He found himself stirred from his revelry when something hard hit him in the back of his head. Looking down, he noticed what looked like a shattered coffee cup. His senses suddenly felt like they were on fire, and he stepped two feet to the left, narrowly avoiding a second. Peter looked up, and could just make out a fuming Mary Jane hanging out her window. Peter merely smiled and waved before walking away. "So long MJ."

Peter walked for what seemed like only a few minutes, when in reality, it had been for over an hour, when he spotted his building. It was a beat up apartment building in one of the older industrial districts of the city. Before he had gotten serious with MJ, he would stay here. People rarely looked up around here, and it was a nice place to stay when he had to lick his wounds.

As he climbed the side of the building, he entered through his window, and looked around. Granted, he hadn't been there in months, and it was dusty, but thankfully no one had broken in. He slightly regretted using his Bugle money to keep paying the rent, but was now immediately grateful that he had. It was just a studio style apartment with a large bed in the corner with a beaten dresser and table. A plain white bathroom/photography room off of the main room, and a countertop separating the kitchen from the bedroom/living room.

He smiled as he noticed his weight machines tucked in a corner next to the bed. After the first time he had beaten Venom, he had decided to bulk up. Using the equipment, he had managed to increase his strength and endurance. Sure, he was no where near what he was when he had the symbiote, but the work still gave him an edge. Besides, he got plenty of looks from people other than Mary Jane.

Peter walked over to the closet and after opening it, smiled. Inside was a suit somewhat like his red one, but in basic design only. The fabric was jet black, and heavier than his current one. He had managed to get a type of Kevlar weave to use as the fabric, and emphasized the web patterns with silver. The chest and the back were slightly bulkier, but that was due to the ceramic plates that sat there. _With those,_ he thought,_ I might not have to worry so much when someone points a gun at me._ He held the suit up to himself and figured that maybe tonight he would take it for a test drive. Maybe swing downtown and show them all that spidey is back in black.

Throwing the suit back into the closet, Peter walked over to the bed, and sitting down, reached over to grab the picture that sat on a beaten table. It was of his aunt, Mary Jane, and himself. All smiles without any cares. He slid the photo out of its frame, and carefully tore her picture out of it. When it was done, and back in its frame, again, Peter was surprised at himself. He had just broken up with the woman he loved, and then tolerated, and had been kicked out of his home. And all in one day. Any yet, he felt no sadness, only relief. "Maybe that's the point." He spoke to the room, not really expecting an answer. He reached for the phone, and dialed his aunt. He had to tell her what happened, and where she could now reach him. He knew that this was going to hurt her, but he really wasn't too worried. Aunt May was a sweet, strong woman, and the only thing she really cared about was that he was happy. If he explained it to her just right she would understand, hopefully. "Hello, Aunt May, its Peter…"

Three hours, and a bucket of tears from his aunt later, Peter was walking towards the Daily Bugle. He had also spent an hour of those three talking with the school. Peter had told them that he was sorry but he needed some time off, to go on sabbatical, and they believed him, asking him to consider coming back in the future. He might go back there one day, but right now he needed a change. As he entered the Bugle, everything about it came back, and he could even hear his boss screaming about something.

As he approached Jameson's office, he could smell the smoke from his cigars. Peter had yet to meet the man since the smoking ban went into effect, but wasn't surprised that when he opened the door a cloud of smoke drifted out. "Close the door Parker! You're letting my air out!" Peter quickly complied and turn to face his employer. Jameson was a decent man, whose life had been hard. Peppered hair, and a wiry body, he looked more like a bartender than the head of a newspaper. He motioned for Peter to sit as he lit another cigar. He looked around, and Peter could see that he had added more to his wall of, 'Spider-Man: Friend or Menace?' Peter couldn't really find the effort to hate the way the man felt about Spider-Man anymore. Not anymore.

When Peter hand run into him at a bar over six years ago. Jameson could barely sit on his stool, he was so drunk. What surprised Peter the most was that the man was crying. Peter had seen this same man treat any person who was remotely near him without an ounce of human dignity, but here he seemed to be the essence of humanity. "Peter," he slurred, drawing him under an arm. Jameson reached for his glass, and after draining it, signaled for another.

"Peter, I just want you to know that this is the only time I ever get drunk anymore, is this day." He lifted the glass to his lips, and missing, poured it over his shoes. Not phased, the man signaled for yet another.

"Mr. Jameson, I think you've had," Peter reached for the glass, but the old man moved his hand suddenly.

"I don't hate Spider-Man kid," he mumbled without warning. To say that Peter was shocked, would have been an understatement. "I hate what he represents. If he's so good, why hide his face?" He turned to Peter, and he could sense that his boss was holding something back.

"What's wrong Mr. Jameson?" His boss looked to his empty glass and set it down. Peter watched as the old man rubbed his face, and when he finished, Peter could see the tears in Jameson's eyes.

"It's the day I lost them Peter. Ya see kid, when I first got started…" Peter had listened to his boss tell how his first wife and child had been killed by a man in a mask. How they had died because he wanted to expose evil to the world, and how their deaths were on his hands because of a man wearing a mask. He explained how when he saw Spider-Man, all he could see was that man standing over his wife and child, pulling the trigger.

And that's why he doesn't like or trust Spider-Man. If he was as good as he claimed, and wanted to help people so badly, why not become a doctor, or a police officer, he had said. Then he said something that surprised Peter even more. "Parker," Peter smiled, it sounded like he was starting to sober up. "You remind me a lot of myself." Jameson dug in his pockets and pulled out a wad of wrinkled twenties, laying them on the bar. "If you ever want to go full time as a photographer, just say so." He pulled on his jacket, and stumbled to the door. Peter followed, and as he helped his employer into a taxi, he started to realize that even though Jameson was a bull-headed ass, he was also one of the best men he had ever had the chance to know.

Returning to the moment, Peter squinted through the cloudy haze to his employer. "Mr. Jameson?" He looked up from the papers on his desk, pulling the cigar from his mouth. "I was wondering if that full time photographer offer was still on the table?"

He watched as Jameson grew a smirk and stood up, dusting the ashes off of his slacks. "What's the matter kid, the school get tired of you?" He took another pull from his cigar and added to the cloud in the air.

"No sir, I left them, I needed a change. To start over." Peter let that statement hang in the air as his boss appraised him. He then laughed and stuck out his hand.

"Kid, ya got gumption. Start bringing me more pictures of Spider-Man. And that other one." He turned and sat back at his desk.

"What other one?" He watched as his employer gave him a look and started to speak slower, as if he was foreign.

"The. Other. One. Parker. The girl with the black body suit. Black Cat. She's been sighted around town." Peter felt the words hit, and locked up. _Black Cat, Felicia,_ _aww hell._ "Parker, get your ass moving, I'm not paying you to sit around."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Jameson." Peter exited the cloud, and breathed the fresh air of the office. Black Cat in town. Things just got interesting.

He swung from one building to the other, immediately grateful for continuing to use the weight equipment before trying on the black suit. Sure, it was heavier, and made his shoulders sting slightly, but he was now breaking the suit in, and enjoying himself. The one bonus was that with the added weight, he was able to swing farther. As he landed on some random building, he took a moment to look around. As far as he could tell, Peter figured that he was deep in the Plaza District. He had never known Felicia to deny herself the finer things in life. If she was really back in town, then this would probably be the heart of her territory.

He sat down on the ledge, looking down at the cars and people running around, and Peter felt his mind drift back to when he first met the Black Cat. How she had pretty much mopped the floor with his ass, and then kissed him and ran off. He could still smell the perfume she wore, it was Amor Amor by Cacharel. In his defense, it wasn't because he was some creepy stalker. But the smell drove him insane, and he had to find out what it was. He even almost bought a bottle for MJ, but was worried me might call her someone else in bed, and lose her. Peter took a deep breath then, and thought he could smell her, but knew he was wrong, he was up on the roof, sadly by himself. He had to remind himself to stop thinking about the redhead. She was gone, and he surprised himself because he was happy. He could finally be himself, could stop denying what he was. He was Peter Parker, and he was Spider-Man.

He stood up at the ledge and was getting ready to move when he saw her. Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat. She was running along a rooftop across the street, and near as he could tell, she hadn't seen him. He could see the light from below and the moon gleaming off of the black leather outfit she wore. He couldn't tell from the distance he was at. But he was almost sure that she was wearing it tighter than normal. He also noticed that she had the suit opened along her chest more than she normally did, and that suited him just fine.

He surprised himself again that day; he was shamelessly staring at her, and feeling no guilt. Any other time, a certain redhead would enter his mind, but all he could think about was hearing her voice, and maybe catching a whiff of her scent._ Dammit Peter, she's gone. _He looked to her, as she decided which way to go. _Go over and say hi, hell she might want to do more._ That's when the idea crossed his mind. "Cat, you always did like to play games." He jumped from the building, and swung low, making sure that he was following her. Out of her line of vision. "Why don't I play one?"

Felicia stopped at after she had vaulted to the next building. She did enjoy these night runs. A part of her wished that she could just stop being Felicia and give herself over completely to Black Cat. She had been back in New York for two weeks after finishing school. According to her mother, she was now smart enough to take over the family business, and it was time for her to come home. But this wasn't home. Her home was with the wall-crawler. She missed their games. She missed being able to get into his head, and get to him. Make him want her the way she wanted him.

She could still remember when she first met him. She had just robbed a jewelry store for the King Pin, and there he was all blue and red and male. She didn't say anything, just went right at him. He was stronger than her, but all she had to do was give him some puppy dog eyes, and then he was on the ground, passed out.

She had knelt over him, and straddling his hips, waited for him to wake up. The second he had, she rolled the bottom of his mask up and kissed him. What surprised her more than anything, was that his arms wrapped around her. After they broke away, she purred and stretched out over him. "See ya around Spider," she whispered, before knocking him back into unconsciousness.

She remembered all the times they worked together, and how he always seemed to hold back, how he always seemed to have his girlfriend. She hissed then, and swiped at the surrounding brick wall with her claws. "That girl better realize just how lucky she is." She knew that he had wanted her, and yet he held back, he stayed with whoever she was. She was a good boyfriend.

She turned to leave when she felt a presence behind her. As Felicia turned, she saw nothing but the darkness. Again she turned to leave, when she found she couldn't.

Felicia looked down, and saw that her heels were now stuck to the roof. She leaned over, and saw that a sticky substance held her tight. "Spider?" She looked around, her heart racing, normally she needed to rob someone to get him to follow. Never had he sought her out, or taken the initiative when they met. It made her heart race. Using her claws, she managed to get one foot loose, and was working on the other when she heard a voice.

"Kitty get stuck?" She looked and saw him step out of the shadows. It was Spider-Man, and it wasn't. He was covered in black and silver. He even appeared to have bulked up even more than when she last saw him. She would have thought that it was someone else, but that voice, and the way he stood, told her that it was him.

"Yes I did," she bent over and resumed her work. She heard him walk around her and stop behind her. She could feel his presence and had to keep from shaking. When he didn't say anything, she finished freeing herself, and stood up, turning around to face him. "Did you see something you liked?" She tilted her head and smiled, placing her hands on her hips. He wanted to play games, she was more than willing.

"Maybe I did," he again started to circle her, and she could feel his eyes on her. _What happened to him,_ she thought. _He's never this much fun. _He stopped in front of her, and she watched, wishing she could see what his eyes were doing. "How long have you been in town Cat?" He took a step towards her, and she stood her ground, letting him enter her personal space. He raised his hand and touched her cheek, and she shuddered.

Felicia took a step back, surprised. He was never this aggressive. Sure he would flirt and play, but now he was playing for keeps. This was new territory for her. "You're not scared of little old me are you?" She could hear a low laugh as he finished his sentence. She could almost see the smirk under his mask, and there was nothing she could do. She let him into her personal space again, and found herself blushing like she was back in middle school. He leaned in close to her, and she could feel his breath on her neck. "Amor Amor," he muttered.

She pulled back from him, and raised her eyes to his. "How did you know?" He tilted his head, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer her question. "How," she purred, walking towards him. Felicia smirked as he took a step back, and she felt like she was in control again, "did you know what I wear?" She kept pushing him until he was backed up against the edge. She watched as he raised himself up, until he was a full head taller than her. He seemed to gain his dominance then, and she could feel those eyes staring at her, like they wanted to nothing more than take her there on the roof.

"I sometimes enjoy the finer things in life," he whispered, leaning close to her ear. She could feel him breathing against her skin, causing her to shudder. "Such as the company of a beautiful woman," he leaned even closer to her, and she panicked as his arms encircled her waist. "Whose very scent drives me crazy. Who haunts my every thought, who makes me want to show her who I really am." Felicia had been working up a flirty comeback, but was unprepared as his mouth crashed down against hers.

Peter had finally realized that this woman, this Goddess is what his life had been missing. Sure, MJ, she had been safe, but Felicia, the Black Cat, she was life. She wanted him. He could feel it as she moaned into his mouth, and he clawed hands attacked his back. He had even impressed himself that he had removed his mask before she knew what had happened. Peter realized that he had taken a risk, she knew who Peter Parker was, but now she knew that he was also Spider-Man.

When they separated, Felicia needed a moment. The man she had wanted for years, who had always kept his distance from her, had just kissed her. Incredibly well. As she leaned against one of the rooftop air conditioners. She raised her face, and felt her jaw drop. Spider-Man, the Spider-Man, was Peter Parker. He stood where he was, and she could see his smile in the night. "Peter, you're Spider-Man!" He just laughed then, and moved towards her. When he reached her, he again wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close.

"Yeah I am, that a problem?" She pushed him away gently, and turned from him. Peter walked around her to look at her face. "Felicia, What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She looked at him, and he could see unshed tears in her eyes. "What's wrong is that you're with Mary Jane, Peter!" She started to openly cry then, and Peter felt his heart stop. He had never seen something so beautiful cry. It was destroying him. He tried to reach for her, but she stepped away. "I can't be the other woman Parker!" Peter shook his head, and grabbed her, spinning her into his arms. She continued to cry, and Peter held her against him. Even when she tried to pull away he held her, refusing to let go.

"Felicia," she looked up at him, and he wiped her tears away, smearing her eye liner in the process. "Mary Jane and I broke up today. She couldn't stand my life." He looked down at her, and he saw something change in her eyes. "And to tell you the truth, I don't think I really loved her the last few months we were together. I think you were right. We should give it a shot. I mean what I said before, you drive me craz-" Peter didn't get the chance to finish speaking because Felicia threw herself at him. Causing them to topple onto the roof.

When they finally separated, Felicia passed him his mask. As he secured it, Peter found her staring at him. "What's wrong?" She merely smiled, and with hips swaying, walked up to him.

"Nothing Spider, just appreciating how good you look in black." He shook his head and followed her to the edge. "Why did you go to black?"

"I needed to start over, and I guess I was listening to AC/DC when I thought of this," he said, gesturing to the suit. "Like they say, its good to be back in black." She laughed then, and he smiled under his mask. Enjoying hearing her happy.

"So where do we go from here?" She asked. Without answering, he pulled her close and dove off the roof. As they swung, Peter was rather satisfied. _Its nice to carry a woman without her screaming in your ear. _When they got to his apartment, Cat merely grinned, looking from the bed to the man beside her. "You're a bad boy spider."

"What are you going to do about it?" He asked. In response to his statement, Peter couldn't help but think that Felicia was gorgeous in her black cat suit. But she was incredible out of it.

Mary Jane left for the theatre the next day feeling good. She had finally gone out with her co-star, Eric, and he was such a gentleman. He had walked her to his car. Had opened the door for her, and had even paid when she insisted that the each pay half. It was nice to have a guy who didn't disappear every time he heard a police siren. When she got off the bus though, he attitude changed completely. On the billboard above the business was the Daily Bugle showing off its newest photos of Spider-Man. On it he was wearing black, which she instantly despised, but what made her angrier was that he was holding that woman, dress like a slut with a thing for cats close, kissing her through his mask. Below the two, red lettered blared, 'SPIDER-MAN: BACK IN BLACK." "Asshole," she muttered, walking into what had just become a real shitty day.

There you go. I might be willing to write more about these two, if I get at least one review.

Take it Easy

-N


	2. Rattled

Rattled

I wish to thank my reviewers from my previous Spider-Man story. Specifically spideyfan2011, Kairan1979,silo666, rebukex7, Kelsey, and everyone else who read the first part of starting over; especially those who had taken the time to send me a review. Without further ramblings, enjoy

It was two weeks to the day since Peter Parker had left the redhead, and all things considered, he was doing all right. He found himself sitting on the roof of some random jewelry store in the plaza district. He found himself out there more and more recently. Since Felicia rarely left the area, if he wanted to see her, she made him seek her out. _Women,_ he thought. The one bonus was that his presence wasn't going unnoticed. In fact, he noticed that people started to look up more around here. When he'd go by, people would stop and wave. It was nice. They had even gotten used to the black suit.

When the Daily Bugle first discovered his photos of the new suit, Jameson just about choked on his cigar. "WHAT!" Peter sat in the cloud of smoke smirking, the man seemed to be enjoying his anger, and a chance to vent was good, and in Peter's opinion, healthy. He even chuckled as Jameson went on a rant through his phone. "Clear the main billboard, I'm sending you a photo I want up there by the end of your shift, that means eight A.M., GOT IT!" He slammed the receiver down, and after pawing through the envelope, pulled out Peter's favorite.

He took it at Felicia's insistence. She had wrapped her arms around him, and pulled his face down to hers. Sure, they had had fun afterwards, but he didn't like his pictures being staged. Still though, Jameson wanted the pictures, and true to his word, he gave him full time wages. He walked out with the pay stub, breathing the fresh air, when he heard Jameson yell through the door. "Parker, keep those photos coming. I want this freak on every page. I want people to know he changed his look! And," the door flew open, and Jameson gave the image of a devil with the smoke flowing out behind him. "I want more with him and his new girl, people love seeing couples!" The door slammed shut, and he disappeared back into the smoke.

His mind drifted back from that day to the present, and his company. He looked to his left, and saw her laying against the roof, like she had been doing that her entire life. "I'm bored," she moaned. _Why does she have to moan or purr everything. _He merely shook his head, and looked down over the edge. He had gotten a somewhat reliable tip, after dropping someone off of a twelve story roof and snagging them a few feet before the concrete; that this store was next on the hit list for the King Pin. He slammed his fist into the stone, and smirked when he saw the cracks.

Felicia had insisted he start lifting again, and now, including his enhanced strength, was up to five hundred pounds on the bench. She also insisted that he lose the ceramic plates, only carry them when he knew someone would have a gun. _I like everyone seeing what's mine,_ he smirked, remembering what had followed that conversation. It was no screaming match, but Peter still had the bruises from that 'fight'. He flexed his arm, and looked toward a building, looming in the distance.

He was ready, he wanted the King Pin, to really hurt the city's biggest crime boss. If he could put the hurt of the fat man, he would be happy. But, he was settling for taking away the shiny things he wanted. He was so deep in thought that he didn't even realize the cat was near, until she reclined against his shoulder. "Ya know, you make a shitty boyfriend."

He turned to face her at her words, but only saw a smirk. "Sorry, my mind's on other things." He looked down, and smiled slightly when he saw the owner lock up and walk away. "Another hour, and we'll be done." He turned to her, and rolled up his mask, giving her a smile. "When we're done, I'm all yours." She nodded, and looked down with him.

"You're damn right Spider. I settled when we hooked up," he felt his eyes go up at her words. "Don't make me regret that." She laughed then. And stood up stretching. He felt the stiffness as well, and decided to move.

"You settled huh? Hardly, you're attracted to me constantly. You are just too proud to admit it." He smiled at her glare, and walked back to the ledge, and saw a van pull up. "They couldn't even wait five minutes," he groaned. Peter looked to Felicia, and realized that he could have been doing something much more enjoyable before they had gotten there.

"We are not done here," she muttered, watching him look over the ledge. "You, Mr. Parker, are going to have to do some serious apologizing for that last statement."

"Well," he backed up until his knees touched the wall. "What I meant was," he didn't finish. Instead, he leaned back and let gravity pull him over, down to what he was waiting for.

"Like I said before," she ran to the ledge and dove off, seeing that he had already gotten started. "We are not done yet. I expect you to make up for this."

Two hours later, they were back at his place, again. Peter was surprised that she enjoyed it so much. He knew she had expensive tastes, and he was anything but. And yet, here they were, sitting down on a recently purchased couch, watching the news on a free, curbside located, TV.

He looked at her and smiled. Since they had gotten together, he had started to let her keep some of her things there with him. A couple sets of clothes, a spare suit, and a few other things. She was sporting a pair of jeans, and a tight white cotton T-shirt with black letters proclaiming, 'Your boyfriend wants ME!" _Can't blame him for wanting though._

"So," he turned to face her. "What should we do now?" The Chinese containers sat in the garbage, and four empty brown bottles proclaiming the contents to be, "Blue Ribbon Quality", sat empty in front of them. Her smile turned wicked, and she looked from him to the bed. He followed her gaze and smiled. "I think that goes without saying, but I was thinking more about our 'after work' activities." She nodded, and stood up.

Felicia strode to the kitchen, and retrieved the final two bottles from the six pack. She popped them both on the countertop, and came back, sitting down in his lap. "Well," she said, taking a pull from the bottle. "We can keep doing what we're doing. Or," she let whatever he was thinking fill in what was left unsaid.

"Or we can go straight to the top, and take care of the problem there." She nodded as he lifted his bottle and shotgunned the beer in his hand. She watched him, surprised at his actions, but sat in the silence with him. He set the empty bottle down in front of him and stared through his window. "Tomorrow night," he said suddenly. She turned to face him, making sure she had heard him right. "We hit the King Pin tomorrow. We let him know that we're not to be taken lightly."

She nodded, happy that they would, for once, be doing something exciting. Sure, taking out the small timers was fun, but the King Pin, that was a challenge. "Can I keep something of his," she turned to face him, smiling. "Fisk always has such nice, shiny, _expensive_ things." He laughed then, pulling her up in his arms. He carried her to the bed, watching her smile turn into a grin.

"Sure, in fact you can keep two things," he reached for the light, filling the room with darkness. He could hear the sound of clothing hitting the floor, and smiled wide, reaching for her.

"What do you think you're doing Spider?" She grabbed his arm as he reached for her. He pulled free and dove.

"Making it up to you."

They had agreed to take the morning off. Felicia would stay in and get the extra sleep, and Peter needed to build up his munitions. As he mixed the webbing, he tweaked the formula ever so slightly. This stuff wouldn't dissolve, this would harden to stone. That was the only problem. He was forced to keep it pressurized in a larger container. When he had finished, it looked like he was holding a shot put. "Gotta test it," he muttered, walking out of his room and heading for the roof.

Peter returned from the roof several hours later, with a satisfied look on his face. He went to his bed for a few hours sleep before nightfall. "We're ready," he muttered, closing his eyes. He wanted to take the King Pin down, to permanently cripple the criminal underworld. But he didn't have enough evidence to do that,_ not right now at least._ For now though, he was willing to just rattle the man's giant bones, to get inside of his enormous head. To send him a message.

They had both arrived on the roof of a skyscraper across from the Fisk building. Felicia looked to him, and again enjoyed seeing him in black. But then his costume peaked her interest further. She noticed an edition to his new suit. Across his chest he wore what looked like a bandolier, and attached to it appeared to be several grenades. _So what if he wants to make a bang, _she thought. _It just means more fun!_ They stared at the tower, until Cat broke the silence. "What are you thinking about Spider?" He shook his head and turned to face her, wrapping his arm around her hip.

"Just how much the King Pin is like is building. Giant, white, and an eyesore." She laughed lightly, and turned to wrap her arms around him. Silently, they made their way to the building. When the reached the roof, Peter silently passed a radio to Felicia, and they spilt up, each going to do what they agreed to.

Felicia made her way to the communications room, and inserted a disk into the mainframe. Peter had said that it would just mess with the computers for a few hours and create some noise. But other than that, he was being very vague. He had said that he was going to head to the science wing, to make sure that they had a way to get out, if they needed it. But until he gave her the signal, she was to stay put.

When she arrived, she quickly entered the disk, and looked the guard slumped over the key board. She sat waiting, _God, whats taking him so long. _She was tempted to leave. Knowing Peter, he was hip deep in some shit needing help. Just as she approached the door, she heard the radio chirp. "Cat," she heard his voice, quiet, he wasn't alone.

"Spider, are you alright?" She waited a moment, and the heard his laugh.

"Aw, you were worried about little ol' me?" He was talking normally, if anyone was there, the problem was over.

"No, just worried that I would get to find my baubles," He laughed, and she relaxed, if he was being this open, then there was no problem.

"I'm fine, hit the disk, and go shopping. I'll meet you on the roof." He paused, and she could hear him thinking out loud. "Cat, don't call me on the radio no matter what, got it?"

She looked to radio like it had grown wings. _What the hell is he up to? _"'Kay, why?"

"No time to explain, just know that I'll meet you on the roof. Over and out." The radio went silent, and Felicia grinned. Walking to the computer, she activated the disk and waited to see what would happen. Seeing nothing, she left the room, but noticed that the lights had flickered and a noise started to come out of the speakers. She groaned, recognizing the sound of Slash's guitar anywhere.

"I'm dating a nerd." She sprinted down random halls until she found what she was looking for. Smiling, she activated the lights, causing numerous cases to glow with what they held. "King Pin always did have such a nice collection."

When they had separated, Peter knew exactly where he wanted to go. On the several occasions that he had found himself at the King Pin's headquarters, Peter had discovered that the fat man had an obscene amount of chemical agents lying around his labs. So, he figured, what's the harm in maybe arranging for a few of them to be 'accidentally' mixed together? Grabbing several bottles of bleach, he threw them into an open sink, and retrieved a metal can from the other side of the room. After bringing it to the sink, he did some digging, and sure enough found a full bottle of Draino underneath. Placing the cleaner next to the ammonia, he smiled as he read the label on the can, 'Acetone'. "Perfect," he opened the can, and after clogging the drain, submerged all of the bottles in the chemical. When that was finished, he called the Cat, and smiled when he heard the worry in her voice, and even teased her.

He adjusted the bandolier across his chest, so that the load sat more evenly over the plates. Peter wasn't expecting to be shot, but if it were ever to happen, this would be the place. He looked back into the sink, and could tell that the acetone was beginning to dissolve the plastic around the bottle. Hopefully soon, everything would be mixed together. "I'm finished. Hit the disk and go shopping. I'll meet you on the roof."

He stopped then, how would he trigger it? Then he looked to the radio. The acetone, and the resulting mix, wouldn't be able to destroy the equipment, or at least, not before he would need it. "Cat," he called her, hoping she still had the radio on. "Whatever you do, don't call me on the radio no matter what, got it?" The line was silent, and he was getting ready to call again when he heard her.

"'Kay, why?" _Damn, Cat _would_ want to know. _"No time to explain. Just know I'll meet you on the roof. Over and out." Peter threw his radio into the solution and quickly got out of the room, not wanting to waste anymore time. He started to sprint to the main office, surprised that he had not met any type of resistance yet. When he approached the giant oak doors that marked the fat man's lair, he looked up smiling. On the ceiling was a conveniently placed air duct cover. Climbing the wall, he pried the cover open, and pulled it shut behind him.

As he worked his way through the twists and turns, he eventually found what he was looking for. He eased the cover off, and pulled it into the already cramped area with him. As he slid down the wall, he noticed the lights starting to flicker, and knew he only had a few seconds left before the music started, and everyone would know what was going down. He could see the fat man staring out his main window, watching the sunset. _If I didn't want to see you behind bars like the animal you are, this would be your last sunset._ As he got to the ground, he could hear the music start to blare out of the P.A. system, and decided to call the fat man out, give him a very miniscule heads up. "Fisk!" Peter watched as the giant heaved his weight around, and saw how his eyes went wide when he watched him reach up to his chest, retrieve his munitions, pull the pin, and throw it at him.

Wilson Fisk, aka the King Pin, considered himself a calm and calculated man. He never attempted something that he knew he wouldn't win, and if he ever did undertake such a task, he made sure that his rivals didn't win either. But he also knew that he wasn't invincible. He heard the music first. The King Pin enjoyed the quiet solitude of a sunset, and everyone in the building knew that. So when the noise blared out the speakers, someone would pay for the solace being interrupted. What surprised him though was hearing someone yell his name. Again, he is Wilson Fisk, the King Pin, he feared nothing. Everything feared him.

So when he turned, he was surprised by what he saw. It was Spider-Man. He had seen the photographs, and had heard that he had changed his costume, but was still surprised to see him wearing black. He remembered what happened when he wore black the last time. How he had almost killed Rhino. So it surprised him to see the wall crawler reach up to his chest and pull a sphere-like object from his shoulder. He watched, almost mesmerized as that infernal man reached up and seemed to pull a pin from it.

At that point, it seemed that everything was happening in slow motion, he watched, unable to move as it sailed toward him. He thought of his empire, of his wife and child, and how, in the great scheme of things, he was about to be killed by a virtual nobody. He felt it strike him, and prepared for the loud blast and searing pain, but none came. Instead, a loud pop was heard, and he felt his arms and legs become entangled. Having his center shifted without warning, he had no other choice but to fall to the ground, and land with a crash.

Peter watched as the fat man was wrapped in the webbing, and fell to the ground, he had half expected the floor to give out with the force that he stopped with. Walking towards him, Peter watched as Fisk struggled, and was glad he had tested the immobilizer before hand. The last thing he would want is Fisk getting loose when he was this close. "Easy there tons of fun," he watched as the fat man stopped struggling to glare at him. "I mixed that stuff up using the same resin designed to repair skyscrapers, not even _you_ are strong enough to break it." The man glared at him, and he had to resist the urge to laugh.

"What do you want boy!" Peter simply walked over and swung a leg over the fat man's massive girth. Leaning over his face, he had to resist the urge to roll back his mask just to let him see his smile.

"What I want? Hmm. I want a toilet made of solid gold," he stood up and started to stroll around the room. "I want a beach house in Maui and a winter home in Aspen. I want a normal life," he turned to look at Fisk and could see the man had resumed trying to break free again. He jumped and landed hard on the girth of the man, forcing a wheeze from his chest. "I want you to listen." He leaned close, so that Fisk had no choice but to look back into his eyes. "I want you to stop, but I know you'll never do that so just listen.

"I am sick of you, and tired of attacking you piece by piece." He grasped the webbing, and surprised himself by being able to lift Fisk up into the air. "I want the whole thing. I want you stewing in a prison for the rest of your life, and then your body rotting behind bars after you die." He dropped him, partially to hurt the man's pride, but also because he couldn't keep him up anymore. "But we both know that that will never happen, so listen close."

Fisk was amazed. Spider-Man had always been a thorn in his side, but a tolerable one. He was quickly proving to him that was something much more. "You'll never win boy," he leaned his head up as best he could, to spit his venom at the masked intruder. "If I go to prison, I will get out, and then I'll destroy everything you care about. And only after I have broken your heart, will I enjoy the pleasure of cutting it out of your chest and placing it on my mantle."

Peter shook his head, and extending his arm, fired a string of web, sealing the man's annoying mouth. "Listen tubbo, I'm through playing around. I came in here to make a point. I got in without you knowing, and even though its not showing, I know that it bothers you. If you don't go away, I'll keep coming back, and we'll keep having this conversation." He turned to leave, deciding to use the doors this time. "And who knows what might happen next time," he reached up and toyed with one of the immobilizers. "Next time, these might not have webbing in them. Have a good night." He closed the door as grunts filled the room, enjoying knowing that it would take his days to get free, unless he could come up with something to eat through the webbing.

Felicia paced the roof, waiting for Peter to come up. She was mad at herself for not following him. If he was going to confront Fisk, he would need another set of eyes at his back. But no, she had listened to him, had separated, and went 'shopping'. _Since when do I listen to men. _No matter what the outcome, she was going to make sure she always knew where he was, even if that meant nailing his feet to the floor. "Stop worrying, its unbecoming." She turned, and saw him standing behind her. He had his mask rolled up, and she saw his smirk. The smirk that meant, 'its all good, lets get out of here.'

She walked to him, and after stroking his cheek, slapped him hard enough to make him rock backwards. "Don't ever do that again!" She hissed, but then kissed that same cheek, "without me." He gave her a genuine smile, and rolled the mask back down. He walked to the edge, and held out his hand, she went to him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "So," she turned to face him. "What did you do to Fisk?"

"We just had a nice talk. Can I get your radio?" She tilted her head, not expecting his answer, but complied. She was starting to be able to read his face under that mask, and recognized a grin when she saw it. Reaching into one of the many pouches she carried, she passed it to him. Turning it on, Peter took a firmer hold on her before pressing the call button.

Down in the science department, the plastic containers had dissolved, and the chemicals mixed. Together that created a substance that was able to eat through the plastic battery cover, but not yet sever the wires. When the radio chirped, an explosion filled the room, the flames dancing up the walls, reaching the other stored chemicals, increasing the blast.

"What the hell!" Felicia grabbed onto Peter to steady herself, and to make sure that the building had rocked, and that it wasn't her just feeling jumpy.

"Just a parting gift," he pulled her close and flipped off the building, swinging to one of the lower buildings, and stopping so they could watch the smoke pour out of the lower windows, well away from the restrained king of crime. Neither one spoke, just watched as fire departments and police responded to the building. "What happens now?" She turned to face him, and he didn't look away from the building. Peter heard her question, and a part of him wanted to say that they go grab some gas and burn the building to the ground. _No, tonight was about sending a message. _

"Balls in his court now. We wait and see," he looked down at her. Amazed how even in her heels, and with all her power, she could seem so unsure sometimes. "With any luck, he'll get the hint, and stop. If he does super, if he doesn't," he grabbed her, and they swung together to a farther building, stopping above a restaurant. "If he doesn't we keep sending messages." She nodded, satisfied with his answer. Keep poking him until he gets the hint. She could do that.

Felicia looked down from the roof then, and saw her. The Redhead, Mary Jane. She was looking up at them, while everyone else looked towards the smoking building. She merely gave the other girl a shrug, silently say, 'you gave up on him, I didn't. He's _mine _now, deal with it.' She looked back up at Peter, and taking his hand walked to the back of the building.

"Let's get out of here." He nodded, and followed her. Peter half expected her to go back to his place, but was surprised, when they stopped on the balcony of her high rise. She turned to face him, planting a hand on his chest to keep him from entering. "I don't think so. I have this rule about no single men in my apartment."

"You stay at my apartment all the time? Don't I deserve a little reciprocation?" Peter stared at her, hoping he might get some sympathy. It was a long way for him to get home. He watched her laugh.

"No," she closed the door behind her, and he watched her walk away, her hand waving 'goodbye'.

"Women," he dove off the roof, heading back to his room. "Just when you figure them out, they change the game."

Wilson Fisk was not happy. He was not angry. He was apprehensive. That night Spider-Man had shown initiative. He had sought him out, and had defeated him in his own castle. Something he had done to many others, but had never experienced. His mind drifted back to what the masked man had said. _"Next time, these might not have webbing in them." _

When he felt the explosion, he was shocked. Never had he expected something like that. At first he thought that Spider-Man had meant to bring down the building, but was dumbfounded that the explosion had only affected his science department. He had broken in, and managed to get past his security, and get to him. He was lucky that one of his scientists had come to check the damage and found him. He was luckier still that the fire department believed his men when they said that several chemical containers had fallen off the shelves and mixed.

As he sat in his chair, looking out into the night, he thought back to what Spider-Man hadn't said. He could destroy his empire, and kill him. But he wouldn't, he would ruin him before he took his life. Wilson Fisk didn't know what was worse, but he was sure on one thing. He wasn't rattled, he wasn't unhinged. Wilson Fisk, the King Pin, ruler of New York's underworld, was scared.

There you go, a second chapter. I am willing to write as much as you all want, as long as I get reviews asking for more. Please, tell me what you want to see, where should I go with this. I need input.

Take it Easy,

-N


	3. Breaking Fast and Placing Orders

Breaking Fast and Placing Orders.

Again, I wish to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review. I am most appreciative. I recently made some updates to the first two chapters; mostly grammar and some content changes. A few of you were kind enough to point out to me that MJ and Peter Parker are married, I seem to have missed that detail. So changes have been made, and without further ramblings. Enjoy.

Previously on Spider Man:

Peter half expected her to go back to his place, but was surprised, when they stopped on the balcony of her high rise. She turned to face him, planting a hand on his chest to keep him from entering. "I don't think so. I have this rule about no single men in my apartment."

"You stay at my apartment all the time? Don't I deserve a little reciprocation?" Peter stared at her, hoping he might get some sympathy. It was a long way for him to get home. He watched her laugh.

"No," she closed the door behind her, and he watched her walk away, her hand waving 'goodbye'.

"Women," he dove off the roof, heading back to his home. "Just when you figure them out, they change the game."

Peter practically crashed through his window. He was beat, every inch of him hurt from swing home from the Plaza. His shoulders were on fire; he just wanted a shower, and his bed. As he stripped, he walked towards his bathroom, leaving a trail and not caring. After turning on the shower, he turned to face the mirror. He could make out the slap that Felicia had given him when he first met her on the roof. He absently rubbed his cheek and flinched, with the way his luck ran, there would be at least a bruise there in the morning. Shrugging the thought off, Peter stepped through the curtain, and felt the water hit his arms. As the water warmed, his mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Fisk.

He's spooked, he grinned into the spray. That was good, but not good enough. Spooked would make him more cautious with his activities, but wouldn't make him stop. He could always go back with Felicia, hell she seemed to have enjoyed herself. He just wished he would have thought to ask her what she took. It would have been expensive, shiny, desirable, and fun to have in a person's collection. Essentially, she would have stolen herself. As he stood under the water, he heard his phone start to ring.

Stepping out, he reached for the cell on the sink, lifting it to his ear as he dripped on the floor. "Hello," he made his voice sound tired and annoyed. Even though it was true, he needed to make sure that whoever called him think that he had just woken up.

"Hello Peter," he could hear Felicia purr through the phone. He smiled then. So, she wanted to talk, he was more than willing.

"What's up girl?" He heard her moan, and the sound of fabric rustled through the receiver. She's doing this just to get to me. "I was just wondering if you wanted to have breakfast in the later?" He mulled this over, and couldn't stop the smartass from coming out.

"I thought you had a rule about single men and your apartment?" She laughed then, like he had just told a joke.

"That's only during the nighttime hours. So, how about it?" Peter was stunned then, Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat, sounded unsure, almost as if she was worried he would say no. He couldn't let an opportunity like this go by to mess with her. Just a little.

"I don't know, I just got home, and I have to make an appearance at the Bugle," he heard a whining sound through the phone, and smiled. "Well, how could I say no to my girl."

"I don't know why I put up with you Peter Parker." He laughed then, Black Cat was talking, the real woman, not the rich socialite. "Come around eightish, Mother will be here with a friend, dress nice." He nodded into the phone, glad that she was willing to take charge.

"Sounds good," he couldn't stop himself, he had to see if the Cat was too tired to play. "So, what are you wearing?"

"Nothing but a black lacy g-string, two Victorian diamond rings compliments of Wilson Fisk, my four inch stilettos, and a smile just for you." Peter couldn't stop the groan of need that went through the phone. She laughed quietly, "sleep tight Peter, dream of me."

The phone line went dead, and Peter was surprised to find himself standing near his bed. He flopped forward onto the mattress, not even bothering to dry off, and reached for the lamp. After turning off the light, he muttered to the darkness. "Not a problem Felicia."

Peter gave a groan of disgust as he stood outside the high rise. It reeked of money, and made his skin crawl. He remembered the phone calls that his aunt and uncle used to get. How they eventually knew who was calling, and chose to just try and ignore the ringing. These people would never know what that was like. Peter used to think that if his uncle was still around that the debt collectors calling would have taken him away from his family. He shuddered, the unwelcome memory coming back. No one here knows what that loss is like. He stopped himself ashamed. No, not everyone.

He remembered when he found out who Felicia's father was. How he was the Cat, master thief extraordinaire. How he stole to keep his family safe and happy. And how that same man was the one who now held the formula for creating Captain America somewhere in his mind. He still remembered taking the man up to the roof of the empire state building. How he had told him that he needed to go back to his secret prison. That it was the only way to keep his family safe. He even remembered waiting with the man, for SHIELD to acknowledge that he was waiting. "Are you sure that you want to do this?" The man turned to face Peter, and he could see the sadness there. "You could disappear. You and your family could go somewhere and start over."

"I had thought about that," he looked to the sky and back to Peter. "But I can't do that to my Kitten. If I take her and her mother away, trouble will one day find us." He turned to face Peter, and he could see determination in the old man's eyes. "What the King Pin did to my daughter, I'll never forgive myself. I never wanted her to have to live my life." The sound of engines started to fill the air, and he gestured for him to leave. As Peter approached the edge, he heard the man call his name. "Spider Man,"

"Yes."

"Keep my daughter safe. Look after her." Peter nodded and dove from the roof, looking up to see him surrender to the men holding restraints. I will. Peter had gone to visit Felicia after seeing her father taken away. He had held her as she cried, and when she stopped, she kissed him. He pushed her away, gently, not wanting to hurt her more than she already was. He told her that it would be alright, that things would get better, then he went home to sulk. Mary Jane was still missing at that time, and he was feeling regret for wanting Felicia.

Shaking himself from the memories, he approached the doorman. The man gave him a calculated look, as if trying to figure out what he was doing there. "Can I help you sir?" Peter was surprised, the man seemed to have made up his mind about him, and yet was still being hospitable. Apparently, this man was one of the few who could truly be polite no matter what. Must have been a waiter at some point.

"I'm here to see Felicia Hardy." The look that Peter received said, 'yeah sure, you and every other male in the Burroughs'. But, again to his credit, he approached the call box, and pressed a key.

"Miss Hardy," he released the key and turned to Peter. "Your name sir?"

"Peter Parker." He nodded, and called again.

"Miss Hardy?" The line was silent, and they both waited. After a few moments, he turned to Peter. "She may not be in sir, perhaps if y-,"

"Yes?" They both turned to face the call box.

"Miss Hardy, a Peter Parker is here to see you."

"Thank you Hank, you can send him up." The line went dead, and he turned to open the door.

"Welcome to The Mark Mr. Parker," he stepped back, allowing Peter to approach. "Miss Felicia resides on the 78th floor. If you go to the elevator, speak to Marcus. He will take you up to the top floor." Peter nodded and entered, and his instantly knew why Felicia had chosen the building to be home.

The walls were black and white, and everything seemed to say money. He even felt like he was wasting money by just standing there. As he walked through the halls, he saw the looks he was getting. He merely smiled and waved, enjoying the looks of surprise he was given. The one bit of solace he received though, was watching as a mother sat with her child on one of the sterile looking couches. He noticed that her daughter was wearing a Black Cat T-shirt.

He smiled and approached the elevators. As he neared, he turned to the man standing by wearing a tag that read, 'Marcus'. They nodded to each other. "Which floor sir," Peter smiled. Always 'Sir', no wonder Jameson enjoys being the boss so much.

"All the way to the top." Marcus' eyebrows rose slightly, but pulled a keycard from his belt and swiped it against a scanner, calling the elevator. As the steel doors opened, Peter nodded goodbye, and entered. He looked for a button, but was surprised as the container just started to rise on its own. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Felicia Hardy looked to the mirror again. She was surprised at how girlish she was feeling at the time. She had dated hundreds of men, but they were never any really special. They were fun, but they were always after something. They either wanted her body, or more likely, her money. She had only met one man before Peter that she had loved, enough that she was ready to get married. But then he turned out to be the Hobgoblin, and she was back to the shallow dregs of upper society. She looked down at her hand, and smiled at the ring. She was especially happy to have taken the rings, she knew that when Fisk found them gone, he was going to explode.

The thought of Fisk reminded her of what he did to her. How she ad been kidnapped, and after so many years, taken to her father. She then remembered Fisk standing over her, telling her that she was going to help him with an experiment. She remembered how that eight-legged freak Octavious had dragged her into a glass cylinder, and sealed her within it. She had panicked as a green gas started to fill the chamber, and she tried to hold her breath. But she panicked even more when she couldn't see, and was forced to breathe in the cloud. The second she did, it felt like her lungs were on fire, and then everything else was burning.

When the pain was finally gone, she felt stronger. She looked at herself, she was always defined, but now her muscles were exploding out of her body. She raised a hand to rub the groggy feeling away from her mind, and caught her own hair. It was now down to her butt, and platinum silver; in her opinion, it had looked like she had left hair dye in way too long. She looked to her father, walking towards her, and she noticed that she was now almost taller than him. She didn't listen to the others and her father pulled her into an embrace. "I'm sorry Kitten," she felt his grip tighten then. "But I will get you out of here."

She had trained for weeks nonstop for her to be as good as her father was at being a thief, and a part of her enjoyed it. But the part she enjoyed the most, was taking him home to her mother. When he told them that he was leaving, he told her that everything would be alright, that she would be looked after. But, even though everything was now somewhat 'normal', she still hadn't had the nerve to tell her mother about what she had become.

Her mother was surprised when she had called, asking her to come to breakfast, because she had wanted her to meet someone. That had been awkward. Her mother loved her, she knew that, but she also knew that her mother had a specific type of man in mind for her. So, Felicia doubted that that man would be a photographer who moon lighted as a tight wearing superhero. She leaned into the mirror again, and gripped her hair. She enjoyed being a blonde, mainly because it made people think that she didn't know anything. That was fine with her, it just made it more enjoyable when she showed them that she knew more than them.

She jumped when she finally heard the call box go off. Quickly she made it to the contraption, and felt herself smile when Hank said that Peter had arrived. She ran back to the mirror then, knowing she only had a few moments left before he arrived, and again looked to her reflection. Again, she wished she could simply be only the Black Cat. To leave this life behind, and go away with Peter. "Some day," she whispered. She smiled, looking down at herself as she heard the door being knocked. She put on a smile and walked to the door, opening it with a flourish. "Welcome to my home Mr. Parker."

The ride up to her Penthouse had taken a little longer than Peter had expected, but was surprised when the doors opened to reveal a set of white doors. He approached and knocked. He heard the sound of heels near, and watched as the doors opened, and felt his jaw drop. I'm dead, that's it plain and simple. I'm dead, and paradise is Felicia and a penthouse in Manhattan.

He noted that Felicia wore her hair down, much like when she was Black Cat. But instead of a mane of platinum, a sea of blonde curls fell to her shoulders. She was wearing what he would consider her color black. A slightly form fitting dress that fell to her knees, sexy and classy, but not in Peter's opinion, slutty. She was wearing modest heels, black with a strap over her foot. She smirked as she watched Peter's eyes travel over her. She enjoyed his attention that he gave her during the night, but found herself reveling in it in daylight.

"Peter," his eyes lifted to meet hers, and she smiled. "If you get this excited seeing me in a dress, what would you have done if I answered the door naked?" That shook him from his revelry, and he smiled.

"What I would have done would be considered, at the very least, immodest." She laughed, and stepped back. When he entered, Peter was again shocked by the room. He had expected the room to be like the rest of the hotel. Black and white, cold and sterile. What he discovered was warm reds and browns painted around the room. A rich mahogany floor shined with the room's light, and was sparsely covered with expensive rugs. The rest of the room was filled with art that made him smile in appreciation. He did a quick sweep, and noticed that just one of the paintings would be able to keep him financially comfortable for the rest of his life. Against the far wall, was a bookcase, and Peter smiled. He could count the number of times that he had been crushed underneath that stupid thing, and yet, every time he pushed it back up against the wall, it was perfectly fine.

Felicia watched as he walked around examining the room. She enjoyed watching him as he leaned in close to examine a vase that was tucked into a corner. She knew that he was looking at the vase because he wanted to see its details, that he wasn't trying to figure out exactly how much she had spent on it. She looked to the man, and was glad that he had taken the hint when she told him to dress 'nice'. She could tell it wasn't an uber-name brand shirt, but the white fit him nicely. She enjoyed being able to see the muscle underneath, it made her hands itch. As for slacks, he wore charcoal gray with shined, black wingtips. If Peter was wearing a tie, he would look like he was here for an interview. She walked towards him, I'll have to fix that.

She slipped her arm into his, and guided him from the sitting room to her dining room. "Ready for breakfast?" He nodded, and pulled her closer.

"Sure, what are we having?" She led him through the door, and he was surprised to see who was waiting for them. Peter would recognize Felicia's mother anywhere, even if she wasn't famous. The two looked so similar that they could simply be thought of as sisters, granted slightly, time separated sisters, but still sisters. But what made him panic was the man sitting across the table. Peter was nervous because he hadn't smelt him, which meant that he hadn't had a single smoke since he put those clothes on. He remembered the only time he had tried to quit smoking, and the mayhem that the situation had created. Peter himself had run out and bought the man tobacco, just so that he would stop terrorizing everyone. So, needless to say, seeing J. Jonah Jameson, without any nicotine in his system, was not how Peter wanted to start the day.

"Hello Parker, glad you could join us," Peter heard the low growl in the back of the old man's voice. He knew that this was going to become awkward and uncomfortable real fast.

Breakfast was all around a comfortable affair. Peter sat in silence, and enjoyed listening to Felicia talk shop with her mother and Jameson. God she's grown up. He was surprised to see how much she was steering the conversation to where she wanted it to go. Eventually, she had even gotten Jameson on the defensive about his views on Spider Man. "So you're saying that Spider Man isn't a menace Mr. Jameson?"

"I'd never say that," Peter suppressed a smirk as the old man brought his hand to his mouth, trying to take a pull from a phantom cigar. "He is a menace who has brought out all the freaks, and now they all feel that the city is their arena, and anything goes." Peter had to nod to that. Sure enough, the city was usually hurting when the fight was over. "He deals with these psychos because they came out to find him."

"But Mr. Jameson, wouldn't they have come out anyway, with or without Spider Man?"

"Perhaps, but they would have been dealt with then by normal, certified officers of the law." Peter watched as Felicia shook her head, and smiled. He knew that smile, it meant that she won, you just didn't know it yet.

"So, you admit that they would have come out in one way or another?"

"Yes, of course."

"How many times have the police ever brought down any of the 'super' criminals, to date." He watched as Jameson opened his mouth, and smiled as no words came out. The three just watched as the old man struggled to find words. Peter knew that Jameson wouldn't lie, he wouldn't always tell the truth, but he never lied.

Felicia watched as Jameson squirmed in his chair, but decided to help him relax, he was friends with her mother, and had always been a presence in her life. He wasn't a father figure in her mind, more like the uncle that visited every weekend or so. "Mr. Jameson," red faced, he turned to face her. "How about we agree that Spider Man, like so many things in the legal system that seem unfair, is just a necessary evil in the world?" Peter watched as the old man nodded and rose.

"Fine, may I use your balcony?" When both women nodded, he quickly stepped towards the door. "Parker, a minute." Peter rose noiselessly, excusing himself from the women, and joined his employer outside. He watched as the man pulled a silver case from his suit pocket, and after extracting a cigar, produced a match and lit it. For a moment, the men sat in silence, looking over the city, then Jameson spoke. "What the hell are you doing boy?" Peter turned, surprised to face the man. Jameson had a look that Peter recognized from the bar, compassion and worry.

"I don't know what you're talking about sir." He watched as Jameson took a long pull on the cigar. As he spoke, Peter watched as smoke drifted from him.

"I'm know you're married kid, don't blow a good thing." He turned to face the city. "I lost a woman who was almost my wife because I made a mistake like the one you are making." Jameson took another long drag, as Peter started to laugh. How could this man read people so well, and at the same time, be a complete ass to people?

"Sir, if you're talking about Mary Jane, we're done." He turned and saw Jameson looking at him, trying to figure out if he was lying. "A few weeks ago she said that she had had enough, and kicked me out." Peter looked over the city, his city. "I can't say I didn't see it coming, but was still surprised. That night actually, I sort of bumped into Felicia," he motioned with his head towards the door. "And we just sort of clicked." He watched as Jameson seemed to analyze him, and satisfied, nodded.

"Good, but just make it legal," He continued to smoke, and seemed to be thinking of something else. "If you don't, an ex can make your life a living hell." Peter smirked then.

"Personal experience?" Jameson laughed then. Peter had never really heard that before. It sound sore and rarely used.

"Yep, and listen to your elders." Peter nodded, and then men stayed out, Peter listened as Jameson rambled on Spider Man, and his own life, for close to an hour. Or when his cigar had burned down. "Come on Parker, lets not keep them waiting." They went back in, and finished the day there.

Across the city, Wilson Fisk sat at his desk, staring at his phone. He was trying to decide whether or not that web spraying fool would really follow through on his threat. If he did, danger would be expected. But if he didn't, he just proved how weak, and easily destroyed he could be. Decided, he reach for the phone and punched a number, almost breaking the keys. "Its me," he muttered into the phone. "I need to place an order."

There you have it. I know, I did a little bit of plain old life, so sue me. Now, again, I'm sorry but I need input. Where should I go from here? The reviewer who convinces me best gets their idea written. I am willing to write whoever into the story if you can convince me.

Take it Easy,

-N


	4. Worship & Voices

Worship & Voices

In the words of Stan Lee, Greetings true believers. Sorry, I had to write that just once. I would like to specifically thank petescheude for the input that I needed in this chapter. After some gentle and not so gentle prodding from my reviewers, I have decided to change the rating of this story to "M", and that this part of the story is going to contain adult content. If anyone is uncomfortable with adult situations, then please stop reading at this point and wait patiently for the next chapter to be posted. So without further ramblings, enjoy.

* * *

><p><em>Why did I agree to this? <em>It was the fifth time that Peter had chanted the mantra. Felicia had talked him into going shopping with her. The had pulled up in front of Macy's, in her limousine of course, and entered. After an hour or so, they left on foot, for yet another store. Peter kept his head on a swivel both in the store and on the street, he was expecting something, anything, to happen.

It had been a while, now almost four weeks since they had stormed the Fisk building, and nothing had happened. Virtually all organized crime had gone underground and became silent. Peter knew that he should be thinking positively, maybe he had taken the hint, and would be going straight. _Yeah right, _he snorted. _And J.J. is going to starting publicly endorsing my nighttime efforts. _Felicia turned to face Peter, and knew that he was worried again. She could understand, waiting was making her edgy too.

"Peter," she watched as his attention had focused back to her. She had told herself, that she was going to get his full attention for the day and night, but he was making it damn difficult. "I told you that we're here to shop, so suck it up and come on." He smiled then. Here she was, ready to indulge in purchasing anything she wanted, and she was upset that he didn't want to be there. Again, Peter repeated his mantra. They had walked until they arrived at a building whose front boasted formal wear, and he groaned. She turned to face him, and Peter could see that she was slowly starting to hate him. "What?"

He merely shrugged his shoulders in answer to her. "Good boy," she walked over to him, and patted his cheek. "If you behave, I _may _take you for ice cream." He followed her willingly, not wanting her to get even more upset. He remembered shopping with MJ, his aunt, and even other women. When they were at a store, they were on a mission. It was best to not hinder that. But still, he couldn't stop himself from being a little annoying. After all, he thought when she said she was going shopping for fun stuff, he thought she meant stuff that _he_ would enjoy.

"Do you mean it mommy?" She snickered and pointed to a bench. He willingly complied, and she turned away, making a beeline for the front of the shop.

"I'll be a little while, enjoy the rest." He nodded and watched her go. He had to resist the urge to slap her as she left, she was throwing her hips enough to draw the attention of every man in the area. He smiled when he saw some random guy actually trip over his feet as she walked by. He turned to Peter, and back to her as she disappeared into the store. He just nodded as the man righted himself, and continued down the sidewalk.

"Peter?" He turned, and saw the person he was least expecting to see. Mary Jane stood staring down at him, beside her was a man that he recognized. He had seen him around several times when he would pick her up from the theatre. He seemed decent enough, but always acted kind of jumpy. Peter smiled as Eric made the connection as to who he was and removed his arm from MJ, and took a step to the side, creating some distance between them.

"Hey MJ, how have you been?" He was trying to be civil, sure, what they had was gone, and the break up was anything but pretty. But that's in the past, and he moved on, so he would try to be polite.

"Fine, have you met Eric?" She turned to the man beside her, and he extended his hand. Peter took it, and smiled again when the hand he held went limp as a dead fish. He released him, and watched as he muttered to MJ, something about 'shopping', and he quickly took off.

"He seems, nice." Peter turned to face her, and she was digging into the bag on her shoulder. After a few moments, she produced a manila envelope, and passed it to Peter wordlessly. He opened it, and was unsurprised by what he saw. Divorce papers. She had already filled out everything. He skimmed through it, and smiled at what she had written in as the reason, 'irreconcilable differences'. Further skimming surprised him to see that she wasn't demanding any alimony. _Shocking._ "Might as well get this over with," he started to pat his shirt, and then his pockets.

"What are you doing?" Peter looked up to her, and saw surprise and fear in her eyes.

"What does it look like I'm doing," he found a pen and started to sign and initial by all the red arrows she had pasted onto the documents. "You _obviously_ want this, I want this, lets just get it over with." She ripped the papers from his hands, and threw them to the floor.

"I did this to scare you," she sat down beside him, and he could hear her start to cry. "I'm sorry for what I said, and I want you back." Peter was shocked at this. She had kicked him out, and told him she wanted him gone. So now, hearing that she wanted him back threw him for a loop. As much as he wanted to say, 'yes, I'm sorry too, take me back', he just couldn't bring himself to. He was with Felicia now. She was a woman. She understood him. _She's perfect. _"Yeah she is," he murmured, looking towards the store. He didn't want her gone, couldn't have her gone.

He reached out to MJ, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Mary Jane," she raised her eyes to look at him. "We're done." She froze, and he reached between her, and onto the floor. He turned to her, watching her face, but her eyes were vacant. He finished filling out the papers, and placed them back inside her bag. "MJ?" He watched as the light returned to her eyes. "We're done, what we had is long gone. But as bad as this sounds, I still want us to be friends." _Here it comes, _he thought. _Here is the big one._

But instead, she simply nodded and found her voice, "who is she?" He had somewhat expected the question, and was glad he was ready. He knew she had seen the papers, knew he was with someone, just not who she was.

"Someone we both know," he looked and noticed that Eric was staring at them, concern and anticipation in his eyes. "You better get going, Eric's waiting." She dried her eyes and nodded. Rising silently, she gave him one last look, a wave, and walked back to the man who was waiting for her. _Finally done, _he thought. _We're finally over. _Again, he was surprised that he only felt relief, and not any remorse. _You can finally have her. _He nodded in agreement with the thought. Now, if he wanted, he could have Felicia. As a lover, as a girlfriend, as whatever. Now that he was legally single, the sky had just become the limit.

He felt a presence beside him, and Peter looked up and saw Felicia standing by the bench, watching as MJ walked away. She brought her eyes to his, and he saw concern there. "Everything alright?" He nodded, and standing, wrapped his arms around her.

"Yep, and its now officially over. Paperwork is done. I am now, officially, a divorced man." He looked to the bag she clutched, "So, what did you buy?" He gave her a smile, and he could feel her relax. "You know I'd never leave you, you know that right?"

She nodded, and after freeing herself, shoved the bag into his arms. "Of course, and besides, you wouldn't leave me, I'd leave you." She sauntered in front over him, and spoke over her shoulder. "As for what I bought, you'll see tonight," she picked up her step, swaying her hips with more effort than necessary and he couldn't resist the urge.

Felicia jumped. Someone had just pinched her hard. On her ass. She turned, and saw the smirk on his face. As much as she wanted, she didn't retaliate. She was Felicia Hardy. She didn't get mad. She waited until they were outside, and she pointed over his shoulder. The limo was parked a street away, and Peter took the lead. That was when she made the move. After all, she was Felicia Hardy. She didn't get mad, she got even.

To anyone on the street, they might have dismissed the crack as the sound of a muffler backfiring. Or perhaps it was just the echo of the ever going road construction bouncing off the buildings. They would have never noticed the sweet smiling blonde walking to the expensive Mazda RX-7. And they _just_ ignored the man near her who looked like he was fighting urge to cry or choke his companion.

* * *

><p>Dinner had passed quickly, she had surprised him by cooking. Nothing fancy, but elegantly presented with wine to compliment its flavor. They were into their second bottle of wine, when the conversation turned to their past lives. "So, when did you and MJ first, ya know?" She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. He laughed then, smiling at the memory.<p>

He looked around, and was again surprised that she had suggested that they have dinner at her place. When he arrived, the room was dimly lit, and he heard the soft music. _Expecting much, _he thought. He had brought flowers, orchids, and watched her eyes, she had walked away with them, and returned with a vase, now loaded. She had placed them on the table, and shepherded him to sit down. As she neared him, he noticed that she was wearing different perfume. _Interesting, she is changing for you. _Again, Peter found himself agreeing with the thought. He looked to the flowers again, and thought about the best way to answer her.

"Believe it or not, MJ was very 'old fashioned'. She didn't even let me see her naked until our wedding night." She choked on her drink, and sprayed his face. Peter chuckled as Felicia rose from her chair apologizing and, walking away, he again appreciated what she had purchased that afternoon. She had surprised him by buying red. It clung to her like a second skin, making it clear what she wanted him to see. He enjoyed seeing the bright color contrast with the pale flesh, it was giving him ideas. _Ideas are good Peter, enjoy them. _His eyes roamed down to her legs, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke her flawless skin. His eyes stopped at the black heels she wore. Stilettos. Slowly, his gaze traveled from her foot ware to the exposed skin. The nails had been polished and were shining bright. _Anticipation, she wants you tonight. No, not tonight, NOW! _His eyes sprang wide as the thought echoed through his didn't need some damned voice bouncing around in his head to figure out what she was planning to happen tonight. _Surprise her, show her how powerful you are. _"Yes," he rose, entering the darkness of the room.

When Felicia returned to the room, clutching a towel she was surprised to see that he wasn't there. She looked around, and silently cursed herself for not having more lights on in the room. "Peter?" She was worried he had left. _Maybe I embarrassed him. _"Stupid girl," she walked around the room, hoping that he may still be there, somewhere. She wasn't expecting his arms to wrap around her waist, or to feel his lips at her ear.

"Miss me?" She fought the urge to shudder on fear. _This is too similar, Peter stop. _Instead, the arms pulled her closer, and he spoke again.

"I know you want me, and I _need _you just as badly." _I'm sure,_ she could feel his arousal pressing into her back. A part of her welcomed it, but a greater part was afraid. She was remembering that night. The smell of cheap cigarettes, the music, and the beer on his breath.

"Peter stop," she was able to speak again, and felt only slightly relieved. She felt the chuckle in his chest.

"Why? Like I said before, I enjoy having you like this." She felt his teeth on her ear then, and she panicked. She shoved hard behind her, and was able to breathe again when he let go. She turned, and saw hesitation and worry in his eyes.

"I, I'm sorry," he looked down, and she could see that he was telling the truth.

"Its not your fault, its mine." She walked to her bedroom, and expected him to leave. She sat down on her bed, and shed silent tears. Angry at herself for what had happened._ Relax, it happened long ago, and he is far away. _She had expected him to go away and clear his head, check on her later. So she was startled when she felt the bed shift, and he was beside her.

"Felicia, what's wrong? You're never scared when I spook you, you even admitted that you kind of enjoy it." She grabbed his hand and pulled it into her lap. Taking comfort from his presence, she started to speak.

"Remember college?" He turned his head, confused by her statement, but nodded. "Well, during that time when you were missing," he nodded, remembering that people said he had missed a lot when his abilities were on the fritz. He had had to disappear to keep people safe from himself. He never really asked anyone what had happened, they just said what he thought. He had missed a lot. "During that time, I went to a frat party, and got hammered."

He noticed that her voice sounded hollow, as if she was talking, but not really there. "Well, some guy started hitting on me, and the next thing I knew, we were in his room, and he tried to," she stopped then, the unwelcome memory coming back.

"_Let me go!" He threw her down on the bed, and she struggled to get away when he laid down on her. His breath reeked. _

"_Why, you want this as much as I do?" He leaned over her, trying to kiss her. She slapped him, and he fell to the side of the bed. He tried to get up, and she hit him again. She ran to the door, when she felt his hand wrap around her ankle. "You fucking little tease!" She turned to face him, let him see the anger she felt, before swinging her captured foot into his face.; she took great pleasure in hearing his scream, feeling his nose break against her foot, watching as the blood pooled on the floor. _

"_Don't ever fucking touch me AGAIN!" She slammed the door before storming out. When she got back to her apartment, she had cried. Out of fear, and disgust at herself._

"And I reminded you of him." Peter's voice shook her from the memory, and she nodded. He rose to leave, but her grasp on his hand stayed firm. He stopped and looked at her.

"Peter, don't leave." He nodded, and was surprised when she jerked him back to the bed, causing him to fall on top of her. "Help me forget," her voice was husky, and her scent was filling the room. He felt her hands on his shirt, and he pulled back to look at her. The rational part of his brain told him that she was acting this way to forget what had almost happened. He knew that he should walk away, come back later when she would truly be willing. But the part of him that wanted her was winning out. _Take her, make her forget what happened. _He gave a growl, and saw apprehension start to appear on her face._ No, make tonight about her. _He nodded to himself and rocked back onto his knees.

"What are you doing?" She tried to sit up, but Peter gently pushed her back onto the bed. Without speaking, he pulled the dress from her shoulders, smiling as he heard the ripping sound. _It really was a second skin. _Throwing the garment away, he watched as her hands rose to cover herself. _So modest, so different from herself. She's no black cat now, she's Felicia. This _will_ be fun. _He felt his hunger grow as he saw she wore nothing underneath. _Excellent._ Crawling over her, he made his way to her shoes, and started to remove them with haste.

Felicia was nervous a thousand times over. She watched as Peter eased her back onto the bed, and was too shocked to notice how he had removed her dress. She was too scared to do anything else other than try and cover up. She only noticed then that her shoes had joined her torn dress in the corner of her room. She jumped when she felt his mouth on the instep of her foot. "Peter, what are you doing?" Her voice came out a whisper, causing him to look up with a smile. He knelt back over her foot, and placed another kiss there, his tongue snaking out to savor her taste.

_She's intoxicating_, he thought. Cinnamon, he thought. It made sense to him, in some strange way. She always did have a very _spicy _character. It only made sense that she would taste that way. He rose slowly, giving her a small bite on her calf. He enjoyed each noise she made, every shudder that went through her body. When he got to her knee, he smiled at the texture of her body. _Cold and beautiful. _In some ways she reminded him of his aunt's fine china. As a child he was forbidden to touch it, but as he grew with age, he had learned how to handle such things. With pride and gentleness. He smiled as he drew closer to her slit, again enjoying the noises she made.

"Did I ever tell you my thoughts on women?" Felicia was surprised by his statement. She was enjoying herself too much to speak. He seemed like he knew her body better than she herself. So when he spoke, all she could do was shake her head side to side. "I've always believed that each woman is a Goddess, and her body a temple," he reached her, and placed a small kiss on her inner thigh. "And that its a man's duty to worship both objects accordingly," He placed a small kiss on her slit, and enjoyed the groan he heard. "It's the only way that he can truly experience paradise." He dipped his head down, and tasted her moisture. _Take her, take her now. _He shook the voice from his head, and reminded himself about the task at hand. _Make this about her._

Peter resumed his tasting, enjoying her moans, smiling as the sound began to get louder and louder. _The other was never like this. _Peter agreed, MJ was never this vocal, half the time, he couldn't tell whether or not she was enjoying herself. Here, with Felicia, it was clearly not the case. When his tongue reached her clit, he heard her scream, and felt the shudder run through her body. He didn't move from his position; only after cleaning her, did he rise back to meet her eyes. "Feel better?" He looked over her, covered in sweat and glowing with desire, a smile on her face. Peter couldn't help but smile back at her look. _She looks so…Damn!_

He wasn't ready when she pulled him over her, and he watched her straddle him. The voice in his mind was roaring now. _Yes, now is the time, take her NOW!_ Felicia grinned at the hungry look on his face. "Much better thank you," she purred, teasing him with light touches. "How are you feeling?" He felt her hand grasp his member, and he didn't bother to stop the growl.

"Frustrated." She laughed then, slowly guiding him into her. _Yes! YES! NOW! _The moment that they connected, Peter lost control. He pulled her underneath him, and took her hard and fast. He needed to make her his now, to mark her. That was the only thing that mattered. He bit into her neck, and enjoyed the gasp she made, the way she tasted, it pleased him. She wouldn't fight him, she only moaned his name. The only pain she caused him was when her nails found purchase on his back. He enjoyed the pain that surged through him. _She wants you, make her beg for you! Scream your name. She is your, make her admit it!_

"Peter, I'm getting close." He only increased his speed, and brought his mouth to her ear.

"You are MINE," he growled. Thrusting harder, and deeper, he heard her moan in approval. "Say it," he hissed.

She whimpered, and he just moved harder. Slowly, he heard his name slip out of her lips. "Peter, please. Just let me,"

"Louder!" He roared, he was getting closer. He needed her to say it. To admit it to herself. "Say it!"

She started to climax, and he felt her tighten around him. "Fuck, YOURS!" Her screams filled the room, and he came with her, roaring. He began to slow his pace, determined to let her ride out her pleasure as long as possible. The animal in him was sated, and Peter hated himself for what had happened. He had never listened to that voice in the back of his mind. It had always been there, but it was quiet, almost silent. Tonight though, it had been screaming. Tonight he had listened to it, had given in, and was worried about the damage he had done. He looked to Felicia, and relaxed.

_She's smiling, that's a good thing. _He looked over her, and was thankful that she didn't have any bruises. She was covered in sweat, and her eyes were wide. "I'm sorry." He turned away, ashamed. She laughed then, and he turned to face her.

"Why are you sorry, because you cut loose?" She sat up, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down and climbing onto his chest. "I just wish I had known you were _that _dominant." She laid her head down on his chest, and he could hear the tiredness in her voice. "If I had, I'd have let you take over _much _sooner. But next time, just ask and I'll let you take control. I enjoyed the attention, but you didn't have to tease me like that." He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

"I wasn't teasing," he said gently, already sensing that she was asleep. "I was worshipping."

* * *

><p>Peter knew he was dreaming. If he wasn't, he would be with Felicia, not in some dank cave sitting in front of a camp fire. He saw a movement in the shadows, and stood up. "Who's there?" A low laugh filled the cave, echoing off the walls.<p>

"I'm who has always been there. Always speaking, but never listened to," Peter heard footsteps, and how they stopped just short of the light. "Until now." He recognized the voice, _the one in my head. _He tried moving towards the figure, but they always stepped back. "No no, you'll find out who I am in time. I just wanted to thank you for marking her. She is ours now, and we will never be alone. I'm pleased you never marked the redhead, she wasn't fun. She didn't complete us. Felicia does." Peter heard the footsteps start to fade away.

"Wait," he tried to keep up with the sound, but it grew fainter.

"We'll talk again, later." Peter woke, and reflexively wrapped him arms tighter around Felicia. She moaned in her sleep, and turned her face away from his. He could see the bite mark on her neck. He had broken the skin, causing her to bleed. _Such flavor, such power! _"Shut up," he whispered to the dark. The bruising was faint now, but he knew from experience that come daylight it would be glowing. He laid back down, and tried to close his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. _What's happening to me?_

_There you go, again, I wish to thank petescheude for the input on this. I couldn't have been able to write this otherwise. In regards to the 'voice', I have an idea for what I want to do with it, but if anyone has any suggestions, I'll be happy to hear it. Again, reviews and suggestions are always welcome. _

_Take it Easy,_

_-N_


	5. Line in the Sand

Line In The Sand (Revised)

**I apologize due to my injuries, I was having problems getting all my ideas out. Here is the full chapter, revised.**

First off, apologies for not getting a new chapter published sooner. Short reason is that I work in protective services and let my guard down, and I got hurt. But on the fifth, I got to have the staples and stitches taken out, and I felt good enough to start writing again. I'm also bringing back a villain, an oldie but a goodie. So, apologies again, and please enjoy

-N

* * *

><p>Wilson Fisk is many things, but he is above all else patient. He had placed the phone call with the person who he only knew by their title, Handler. Handler always had their voice mechanized and encrypted. The few times that he had tried to trace the phone number to put a face with the voice, and to give him an edge, he had always failed. The phone trace could bounce around the world for years, and he knew that he would never find them. So, he settled for just waiting. As part of the agreement, he had sent a payment of five million dollars, and was told to wait, that someone would arrive to assist him with the assignment. He just wasn't expecting him.<p>

He had heard rumors that he was still alive, in some sense. That his death at the hands of his 'pets' was only a new beginning for him. Fisk had even heard that the damnable creature, Venom, had made sure that he was long gone, but with him standing in his private office, that was not the case. How he had managed to survive all the attempts on his so called 'life', was beyond him. All that mattered though, was that someone had finally arrived.

What he wore, to anyone else might have seemed strange. He had traded in his cloak and now wore a sealed suit, similar to an old diving suit. But as he approached, Fisk could hear the steady hum of what the outfit contained. Fisk gestured for him to sit, and the man complied. "Who do you want us to kill?" The buzzing hiss caught Fisk off guard, but he didn't show it. To him, the noise only confirmed that he was now working with the man he suspected.

"Fritz, Begrüßen(1), I trust your trip was a pleasant one?" He watched as the head tilted. Then the buzzing grew louder, and he realized that this was simply how the man laughed now.

"That man died years ago," he looked to the window. "Not even Mossad could find him now." Fisk nodded, he was right, his body was completely gone, they can't prosecute a spirit for war crimes could they.

"I suppose so," he murmured, reaching for the brandy glass near him. "In answer to your question, I don't need anyone dead," he leaned over his desk, and slide a manila folder towards the suited man. "But I do need a message sent."

The figure lifted the folder and flipped through it. "How much damage?" Fisk watched as the helmet turned to face him.

"Enough that they will be in pain, but not so much that they will require a trip to the hospital, just that they will need to be comforted and protected by the one's who care about them." The figure nodded, and rising, walked to the window. After opening the window, the figure looked out over the city, as if they were already searching for the target.

"It will be done, but I must return here after I have finished, and replenished anything that I lose." Fisk nodded, and watched as the figure raised a gloved hand to the front window of the helmet. With a hard twist, the glass swung open, and hundreds of bees flew out of the suit. The King Pin watched, fascinated, as the insects flew out of the suit, and it deflated itself to the ground. The insects held the form of a man, and spoke, the buzz now an unhindered roar, "I'll be back in three days at the most," it gestured to the crumpled container. "Protect that."

"One more thing," the form froze, and he was temporarily mesmerized by the cloud. "Make sure they know I sent you." The buzzing grew louder as the insects flew out the window, and Fisk heaved himself out of the chair, and closed the window. He watched as the cloud flew down into the city, and he shuddered. True, he feared nothing, no man, no creature, but the idea of Swarm, alive and intact, loose and working for him, did make him feel uneasy.

* * *

><p>Peter was dreaming again, and again the voice had pulled him for a chat. "Peter, welcome back." It had been three days since he had been here before. The cave was the same, wet and dank, with the same fire. The figure hung back in the shadows, and seemed amused that he always tried to see them. "I told you before," he could see the figure raise their arm, pointing at him. "You will see me when the time is right, until then, let's just talk."<p>

Peter shrank back down, and stared into the fire. "So, why are you here?" He heard its laugh, and the voice change to something feminine, almost to the tone of Felicia. The light from the flames glowed slightly brighter, and he came to the conclusion, that whatever he was talking to was definitely female.

"I have been here, like I told you before, for a long time. Why I'm here, is because I want to help you. I can give you the power and will that you have always lacked. I'm not just talking about will power, I mean true physical power." He didn't understand what it meant, but how it spoke had a familiar ring to it.

"I've had that kind of power before. I don't need another symbiote trying to drain me dry." He sneered towards the figure, and heard it give a howl of anger.

"I AM NOTHING LIKE THOSE LEECHES!" Peter could see the walls shake with its words. "I am only offering to help you, and you insult me, ME!" He watched as the figure walked away, and heard it, _no her,_ yell back to him. "I will not speak to you until you are broken and desperate. Good luck when the moment first hits."

* * *

><p>Peter sat up, shaking. <em>She's Pissed<em>, he thought. He felt a presence go through him, and he shuddered. She might not wish to speak with him, but that didn't stop him from feeling her wrath. He looked to his right, and saw Felicia sleeping soundly. He was glad. He didn't need her to see him so rattled. The last thing he would want is for her to worry about him. Laying back down, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. As his eyes grew heavy, he remembered the words she yelled to him. _Good luck when the moment first hits._

* * *

><p>Swarm had found the apartment easily enough. He was able to even get in, finding a half inch gap in the window. To any person, they would have been stopped, but he wasn't human, not anymore. He was a God he reminded himself. But, a God needs money to live like one, and to continue his research. He wouldn't be satisfied until he could control all insects. Then, he would truly be a God. After learning the layout of the room, he left one drone behind, a look out. When they returned, it would call to him, and he would strike.<p>

* * *

><p>Peter walked her home, it was something they had both come to enjoy. Sure, some days they would race over roof tops, and the loser became the winner's slave. Or some days they would just drive home, and civilly say good bye. But, like most nights, they would just walk, hands loosely linked. It was during these times, that they each felt normal. Content. "Penny for your thoughts?" Peter looked over to her, and gave her a grin.<p>

"Just thinking about old dreams." She nodded, and they stopped for the traffic light to turn in their favor.

"Speaking of dreams, yours must have been a bad one." He turned to face her as they started walking again. "You woke me up last night," she gave him a smirk. "I didn't take you as the kind of guy who cuddled." He lifted his arm, and placed it around her shoulders.

"I can surprise you."

"You sure can," she reached up and adjusted the scarf she wore. The morning after he lost control, the bruising had been fierce. He was worried that she would have been angry. Instead, she went out for breakfast with her girlfriends, her neck naked, and returned telling him how jealous they were.

His fingers traced the outline wear the mark was, well aware that it was on its way to being a spectacular scar. "Sorry again."

She laughed at his words. "Don't be, just remember, paybacks a bitch." She stopped to face him. "I'm looking forward to putting _my _mark on you." He laughed, and they continued to the Mark in silence. When they arrived, she smiled, and gave him a small peck. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Not much," he lifted his hands to grasp her hair lightly, enjoying the texture. "Probably going to pull a shift at the Bugle." She nodded and walked towards the entrance, smiling at the doorman.

"I call you, maybe we can do lunch, we can invite MJ and her new guy." Peter stared at her, unsure what to say.

"Are you ready for her to know about us?" She simply nodded, and smiled. Any apprehension he had disappeared with her grin._ I am so whipped._ He nodded in feigned resignation, and enjoyed hearing her laugh.

"Okay drama queen," he watched her wave once more before entering, and he turned to leave. _For once in my life, things are actually going as planned. _

* * *

><p>Peter sat at his desk, currently pawing through his photos, attempting to choose the best ones for the next publication. He was unsure of which one to choose, when his phone rang. He saw the number, and taking a breath, answered. "Hey MJ, how are you doing." He was surprised when he heard her laugh, and even more so when he heard a male voice with her.<p>

"I'm doing fine, we're waiting at Mario's for you and Felicia, hasn't she called you yet?"

"No," he looked to the desk phone, and saw that there were no new messages.

"Don't worry Peter, I bet she just had a sudden urge to shop, you remember how she was." He nodded to himself, Felicia was prone to that, but not anymore, something didn't make since, and he needed to see her, now.

"Ya know what MJ, I just checked my messages, she's expecting me t pick her up, we'll be there soon." He heard her talking to the guy, from the sound of the voice, he figured that it was probably Eric. He smiled then, glad that she had found someone. She had needed someone who could always keep the promises that he made. He just wasn't it. "Hey Peter," he noticed her voice was a whisper then.

"Yeah?"

"Is Felicia, ya know, 'assisting' you after hours?" He groaned, but nodded.

"Yes." She laughed then, and a small part of him wondered if she was drunk or something.

"Well, I'm glad that you found someone who can keep up with you."

"Me too, see ya MJ."

"Bye." He hung up the phone and proceeded to call Felicia on her cell phone. When he got her voicemail, he was surprised. _That phone is glued to her hip._ He then called the Mark, and was surprised when they couldn't reach her on the room phone. When they asked if he wanted them to send someone to the room, Peter declined. He wanted to check himself.

After hanging up, he marched over to Jonah's office, and after wading through the smoke, found the man poured over his desk, staring at the magazine's layout. "What do you want Parker?" He growled, clenching the cigar in his teeth.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could punch out, Felicia and I had planned on taking lunch together." He apparently wasn't even worthy of eye contact, since Jonah simply nodded and pointed to his door. As the door closed though Peter heard him roar through the cloud.

"Just make sure to wrap it up!" Quickly striding past the awkward stares and stifled laughs, Peter was proud to make it out of the building without blushing too hard.

* * *

><p>After returning home and changing, Peter quickly made it to the Felicia's penthouse door, and immediately panicked. He noticed that the glass on the patio door had been broken out, and he quietly slid the door open. When his mind didn't explode with warning Peter enter and saw the destruction. Everything had been thrown about or shattered. <em>Hell of a fight. <em>"Felicia!" He yelled, he ran to the bookcase and with one hand threw it against the opposite wall. "Felicia!" He couldn't find her, he ran to her room, and saw that the bed was ruined, torn apart and in shambles. "FELICIA!" He sank to his knees, _where is she?_

"Peter?" He heard the whimper, and ran to the closed bathroom door. He didn't even realize that he had taken the door off its hinges. He saw her in the bathtub. Her clothes were torn and bloody. Both of her eyes so bruised that they were yellow, the ruptured vessels giving her a bloody stare. As he reached her, she openly cried, and grabbed him. "It was horrible, there were so many." He held her, and rocked her back and forth in his arms.

"What happened?"

"He was waiting when I got home. My room filled with buzzing, and he starting throwing me against all the walled. He kept saying, 'Grüße von Herrn Fisk'(2)" She held up her hand, and he saw it was covered with red welts. "When I tried to hit him, my hand passed right through, and it felt like I had dipped it in boiling water." He nodded, and lifting her, carried her to the window.

"I'm taking you home with me." She nodded, and he dove out the window. He didn't care if people saw him. All that mattered what protecting the precious creature in his arms.

* * *

><p>She was asleep in his bed when he closed the door. Once he had gotten her home, he had forced Benedryl down her throat, and smeared the cream over the glowing welts. She didn't look good, but he could tell she was just meant to hurt, not to be broken. When he got to the couch, he thought about what she said. The guy speaking German, and the welts, It had to be Swarm. How he was still alive, he didn't know. But he didn't know what to do.<p>

He reached for his phone, and after dialing, gave a quick sigh, and attempted to be cheerful. "He MJ, sorry we missed lunch," again he could hear the laugh of Eric, he thought that maybe they were at her apartment.

"That's okay, did you guys have fun?" He heard the subtle hint she was giving, and chuckled into the phone.

"No, nothing like that," he looked to the bedroom door, again felt the sadness and hatred at himself, _you couldn't keep her safe._

"Actually, Felicia isn't feeling to well, so we just stayed in."

"Oh," he was waiting for it, the girl was anything, but not apathetic. "Well, do you want us to come over, we can all cheer her up."

_Yeah, so she can see how you failed. _He pulled his face from the door, and turned the window. "Nah, she's sleeping right now. We'll catch up with you guys some other time."

"Okay, bye Peter."

"Bye." He hung up, and took his head in his hands. _You failed her, how does that feel? _He sat up, feeling her invade his mind. _Do you still feel as if you don't need me? Tell me Peter, do you think you're strong enough to fix this? Does Spider-Man think he's powerful enough to seek vengeance? _He heard her laugh, high and mocking, the insults ringing in his ears._ Tell me, how do you feel now, hero? _He felt the venom in her voice, heard her sarcastic tone. "Like I'm worthless," he paused, feeling the tears in his eyes. "Like when I lost Uncle Ben." His head was quiet then, no insults, no anger, no mocking, just silent. Then he heard it, _you are broken, and in pain. Its time to talk._

* * *

><p>"You're right, it was Swarm." He was back in the cave, and she was pacing. "Fisk knew how to get to you, and he was willing to call your bluff. We need to answer this." Peter nodded, but was unable to answer. "First off, we have to kill Swarm."<p>

"How?" He found his voice, and it held no hate, only a sense of hopelessness. The figure stopped and looked at him.

"I know you are hurt, and so is she," the voice held compassion, and he was grateful. "But we have to protect her. Fisk drew the line in the sand with this attack, and we have to answer him. Like I said, first, we must destroy Swarm, and then we confront him."

Peter rose, and started to pace across from the voice. "So, how am I going to stop a living swarm of bees?"

"First off, _we _will stop him, not you alone, understood." Peter nodded and she continued. "Swarm has always been weaken by destroying his minions, but you have always left the queen his spirit possesses alive. This time, you have to kill it. Fire _will_ destroy the queen, and his soul. He will finally be dead."

Peter nodded. He had never taken a life willingly, but now, that seemed acceptable. _After what he did, its not just acceptable, its expected. _He looked up, and she appeared to be studying him, then she nodded, as if she heard what he had thought. "So,' he cleared his head, trying to blank his mind. It was bad enough that he had a voice in his head, she didn't need to know _everything _he was thinking. "How do we find him?"

"I didn't notice any dead insects at Felicia's place," Peter raised an eyebrow, and she let out a huff of annoyance. "I see everything you see, and you were more concerned about Felicia than your surroundings. Not that that's a bad thing." She acknowledged his concern, and he was again grateful. "So, he will go for sugar, to feed his army. We will take him there, and then send our message to Fisk." He nodded, and she turned to walk away.

"Wait!" She stopped, turning to face him. "Can I see you now?"

"You're not ready yet." She continued to walk away, and Peter watched the cave start to fade. "But one of my names is Alpha."

Peter opened his eyes, and he was back on his couch. _We have to go now, before he leaves town. _Peter rose and went to his bedroom, after one last look at Felicia's battered face, he ran to the window and dove out, letting Alpha take control of him, to where they needed to go.

* * *

><p>He wasn't even sure if his thoughts were human anymore. He had been dead for decades, and had long since stopped trying to act human. His thought's and the swarm's desires ran together now, and he no longer tried to separate them. The memories flew through their mind of the job they had just finished. How the girl had come home, and how she had tried to resist them. She had attempted to hurt them, but was unsuccessful. They had left her, beaten and bloody, as the man had asked. Now they needed to feed.<p>

They found what they desired, sugar. It was the only vice that he and his swarm both agreed on. Sugar, in its purest form, or in anyway, just so long as they could have it. They had found it easily enough. Every human hive was filled with it. Soon, they would move on with their pay. Then they would have all the sugar they could want. Something was wrong. They could see their drones starting to fall. They would hit the ground, and try to fly, but fell to the ground dead. "What is happening to us?" They continued to watch, hearing their thoughts go out with their lives. Eventually, he was alone. Thousands of his drones, his warriors lay dead. Soon, he was down, unable to move, each twitch, every flutter, was agony. Then he saw it.

It slowly climbed down the wall, and terror joined his pain. The queen knew what it was, and she overpowered his thoughts. It was the devourer, he would feed on her, drain her dry, she would be no more. It stopped over her, its pincers gleaming in the light. It took them in its jaws, but didn't feed, they fell, and he was able to think again. "Spider-Man," he watched as he screwed the lid on, unable to move, just wanting the pain to stop. "How?"

He raised the jar to his eyes, surprised that it was still hurting him. Normally the stuff took a couple of days to become deadly to a swarm. _That is why we used concentrated. _"Borax dust, sucks doesn't it?" He watched as the insect tried to get up, but was still restrained by the dust, he chuckled as it was finally able to flap its wings. "I'm not going to kill you," he watched as it stopped moving. "Yet. We've got someone to see first."

* * *

><p>It had been two days since Fisk had allowed Swarm free reign on his city. He was pleased with the results. His contact at the Mark had stated that Felicia had not been down from her penthouse since Swarm arrived. He could picture her lying on the floor, broken and beaten. It was good business calling Handler, he decided. His money was well spent, and the only thing that would make this better was if he could see the wall crawling menace's face when he found her. <em>But, we can't always get what we want. <em>He absentmindedly fingered the two rings that Swarm had recovered for him. An unexpected bonus that he was excited to receive. Turning, he watched his city, and panicked when he felt something hit him from behind. When he tried to rise, he noticed that he was frozen to the chair. He looked down, and noticed that he was again restrained by the cursed webbing of a hated freak.

Fisk was suddenly turned around, and he stared up into the blank eyes of the man. "Fisk," he growled. He was surprised. The man had again beat his security, and now had him at his mercy. "I found swarm," he reached into a bag the he carried, and held up a small glass jar. Inside, he could see a large bee trying in vain to escape. "This is all that's left of him, let me show you something." He pulled a set of pliers, a small surgical probe, and a butane lighter from the bag.

Carefully, he unscrewed the lid and extracted the insect. Holding it with the pliers, he lit the lighter, and slowly brought it closer to the struggling bee. As the flame drew closer, Fisk could hear a distinct voice being emitted by the struggling creature. "Bitte nicht! Lieber Gott BITTE NICHT DAS!(3)." As the flames engulfed the creature, its screams died away, and he dropped the smoldering bee onto his desk. Fisk looked up into the unreadable eyes, and was unable to suppress a shudder as the man reached for the probe.

"You hurt the woman I love," he held the probe in the flame, watching intently as it started to glow. "I consider that strike one." Satisfied, he dropped the lighter, and grasped Fisk's head, bring the glowing metal close to his right eye. "This is a reminder of that."

Unless one has ever been forced to suffer it, the truly unique sensation of your own body burning, combined with the smell your charred flesh, is indescribable. Fisk howled in pain as the probe was lifted from his cheek, and he glared at his tormentor. He watched as Spiderman collected his tools, and placed a small mirror in front of the King Pin. He jerked his head, forcing him to stare at the ugly black mark that now sat on the right side of his face. Fisk felt his head being jerked to the man beside him. "Remember, three strikes and you're out." He watched as Spider man strode to his window and smashed it open.

"You're a dead man," he growled, trying to escape his cocoon. He just watched as the figure turned to face him.

"Remember Fisk," he hissed. "Two strikes left," and dove out the window, leaving the King Pin to suffer alone and imprisoned.

* * *

><p>Peter crawled into his window and found Felicia waiting for him on the couch. Wordlessly, he lifted her, and carried her back to his room. As he laid down on the bed, he gingerly lifted her onto his chest, and rocked her, silently willing her to sleep. AS she surrendered to sleep, Peter heard her voice. <em>We did well tonight. <em>He merely nodded, and was surprised. He didn't dream of caves and fires, or of torture and death threats, merely the love of the woman in his arms.

* * *

><p>There you go, another chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. More will come, I promise. In regards to Swarm, bees bother the hell out of me, and I thought he was a villain sometimes forgotten. Reviews of all kinds are welcome.<p>

Take it Easy

-N

Authors Notes:

1. Begrüßen: German for "Welcome"

2. Grüße von Herrn Fisk: German for "Greeting from Mr. Fisk"

3. Bitte nicht! Lieber Gott BITTE NICHT DAS!: German for "Please No! Dear God PLEASE NOT THAT!


	6. Sanctuary

Sanctuary

Again, sorry for the late updates, medical problems, and now constant migraines make it difficult to stare at a computer screen for extended periods, but I'm getting better. So, enjoy and humor me when I say it takes a while to continue the updates.

-N

* * *

><p>Peter woke in the night and clenched the woman he held tighter. Looking around the room, he relaxed when he saw and sensed nothing. Since he had returned from Fisk, he couldn't bring himself to be truly calm. While he understood what he had done, murdered one 'man', and permanently scarred another, he couldn't figure out why he didn't feel any remorse for what he had done. He felt her presence then, she didn't speak, but he felt her mood. She was proud and calm, satisfied with what they had done. But she just couldn't let him enjoy the quiet.<p>

_You did what had to be done, don't dwell on it. _He nodded, understanding her point. Felicia was safe, and, all things considered, was in one piece, but he couldn't stop worrying. He knew that Fisk would respond. After all, he had broken in, again, humiliated him by killing his assassin, and to top it all off, he had disfigured the man. His face broke into a grin at that. He remembered the way his body shook as he brought the probe close to the fat man's eye. But, he had settled on his cheek. Still though, the way he screamed and bellowed like a dying bull had made the simple scarring worth it. His gaze shifted down to Felicia, and felt his heart stutter.

The bruises on her face had bloomed to much more unique shades of yellow, green, and black. He looked to her exposed hand, and saw that all the stings were starting to weep clear fluid. He could even imagine what those beautiful blue eyes would look like if she were to open them. He had to move her, out of the city, if possible, out of the state, but where? She was Felicia Hardy, the paparazzi followed her constantly. They both agreed that it was a miracle that they hadn't found out about the Black Cat, or himself. _You're right, she must be moved, we have to keep her safe. _He looked out the bedroom window, and his gaze hardened. Where could she go where she'd be safe? 'Maybe Stark?'

Peter looked back on all the times that he had worked with Tony, and while they had worked well, he did have reservations about asking him for help. _You're damn right there! _He started at her outburst. 'Are you jealous?' His thoughts were answered by a harsh laugh that sounded like a bark. _I'm not jealous of that drunk, just remember he does have a reputation. _He nodded at that. Everyone, both heroes and civilians, knew that Tony was a womanizer. _Correction, he's a man-whore. _He smirked at that, but couldn't find any reason to disagree with Alpha. Sure, Felicia was hurting now, but soon, Tony would be chasing her around his mansion. 'So, if not Tony, who?'

_What about the blind lawyer? _Peter shook his head at that. Matt Murdock was a dear friend, and had gone out of his way more than once to help him clear both his name and Spider-Man's. But the problem was that Matt lived in New York with him, and on top of that, Fisk knew who Matt moon-lighted as. Fisk knew what could cripple his abilities in seconds. He knew that all it would take for Fisk to finish Felicia would be one flash bang grenade, and she would be his. _So, if not daredevil, than who?_

Peter searched his mind, and slowly came to a decision. They always said he could come to them, that he would be welcomed, and not shunned for his abilities. True, they did live in New York, but it was at one of the southern most points in the state. He thought of their home, and how on one visit, it went from peaceful tranquility to a chaotic fortress by just flipping a few switches. Again, his eyes traveled to the woman he held, they would let them stay, and she would most likely cause trouble, probably by getting into the heads of the male populous, but they would accept her. _They'll do quite nicely. _

He gently set her down onto the bed, out of his arms. As he rose, he only paused to cover her with the blanket, and again, his anger grew seeing what Fisk had done to her. He wanted to go back to his tower. To torture him and make him scream again, his eyes fell to his bandolier and costume. It would be easy enough, he would still be restrained, and if not, he could easily remedy that. _No. _He heard the command and stopped, silently asking, 'why not'? _Because you acted out of vengeance for her and the need to protect. If you go back now and hurt him again, you're no better than him. _

He was still angry, but he knew she was right. If he did go back, than he should just kill himself now; after all, how would he be able to deal with it afterwards? He still retrieved the suit, and after donning it, climbed out the window. He was preparing to leave when he felt that she was watching him. "Peter," he turned and saw her standing there. When he looked into her eyes, he saw just how much worse they had gotten. Every vessel seemed to have burst, and made it look as if she could now cry crimson tears. He wanted to turn around then and hold her tight, to tell her that it would be alright, but that would be a lie for now. He had to handle this errand first, then he could comfort her. "Where are you going?"

Deciding he did have time, Peter went to her and pulled her close. "I'm going back to your place, we need to pack." She raised her eyes to his, and he was pleased to see a little humor light them.

"Oh really," she giggled slightly, and turned back to his bed. "Where are we going?" He stared at her back, wanting to tell her more, but knowing she would enjoy the surprise. Even if she would never admit it.

"You'll see, just starting packing my stuff, enough for two weeks okay?" He squeezed her gently. "After you're done, take some more drugs and go back to sleep." She nodded, and he let go, diving out the window into the dark. As she turned to his closet, and after retrieving his battered suitcase, began to fill it. As she did though, she couldn't help but wonder, 'why the hell does he want to go on a trip?"

* * *

><p>"Where are we going again?" She leaned out the window, and watched as the constant, similar landscape passed by. When he had returned, Felicia noted that he was insistent that they leave as soon as possible. She smiled when she remembered what he had packed for her. Jeans, T-shirts, sweatpants and a few sweatshirts. Unisex clothes, exactly what she expected him to grab, <em>well, that and he cleaned out my panty drawer. <em>She had laughed out loud at that, and enjoyed watching him blush. She hadn't really felt like herself since she had been attacked, but seeing his face when she told him how kinky he was had gone a long way. Now, they were driving along some random side road without anything of importance, with the exception of the rare farmhouse. The last town she had recognized was Locust Point, and now, everything was like reading Greek, she had no idea where she was.

"For the umpteenth time, it's a surprise, we're still a few hours away if you want to grab some sleep." She nodded and turned back to face the window. She had insisted that they take their nightwear with them. Peter had tried to talk her out of it, but all it took was one puppy dog stare and he was packing them. It was low she knew, he felt bad enough about her getting hurt, but still, it felt good to get him to do something he didn't want to.

It still surprised her at how Peter had changed. How he had broken up with, correction divorced his wife. Then, he goes and changes his costume, hell, he had even bought an old pick up truck. Flat black with silver trim. But for her, the icing on the cake was when he lost control with her a few weeks ago. She raised her uninjured hand to her neck, and absently stroked the mark on her skin. She wasn't surprised by how fast she had healed, but by how clear the scar was.

Anyone who saw it, could instantly tell what it was and how it got there. She smiled, remembering how her friends had reacted when she saw them the next day. How they had instantly wanted to meet him, and how some had even asked if she wanted to share him. She surprised herself at how defensive she became at that. Peter was hers, no one else's; and she would be damned if anyone took him from her. This vacation was going to be interesting. She had his mark on her, when he was around, everyone knew what he had done and how she belonged to him. _Well, when we leave wherever we're going, you'll be mine as well._

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Peter pulled up to the iron wrought gates. He could see the mansion in the distance, and smiled. He remembered what their boss, the Professor, had told him about this place. "Peter, you know you'll always be welcomed here," they were at these same gates all those years ago. Peter had come to them looking for a cure, for a treatment, and had left with enlightenment. "This isn't just a school."<p>

"I know, I saw the basement." Peter smiled when the man had laughed. He had found the professor, while slightly aloof, to be a man who was truly compassionate and cared about all his charges.

"No Peter, what I mean is that this place is a sanctuary, you will always be welcomed here. Just remember that." Peter had left then. He was still going through changes with his powers, and was grateful that they hadn't kept him there. He had the feeling that they would've had no problem stopping him from leaving.

* * *

><p>He shook himself from the memory, and rolling down the window, pressed the call button on the intercom near the gate. He heard static, and waited. After several minutes her pressed the button again. 'You've got to be shitting me.' No one home, really? "WHAT?" Peter jumped, and smiled hearing the growl come through the speaker. True, he wasn't the first person he would want Felicia to meet when they arrived, but she'd have to run into him sooner or later.<p>

"Hello Logan." The speaker was silent then, and he could picture the face on the other side. Suspicious. _Rightly so Peter, you'd be too if you had his shattered memories. _

"Who is this?"

"Its me Logan, the 'Web-Head'. I need sanctuary." The speaker was silent, and Peter waited. He remembered all the meetings he had had with Logan. The man and him were never truly friendly with each other, but they got all well enough. 'Even though each time, he had almost gutted me'. Eventually, the gates swung forward, and he drove up to the front door. When he stopped, he reached over to Felicia, regretting that he had to wake her. "Felicia," he watched as she stretched, some how catlike in the cramped cab. "We're here."

* * *

><p>Felicia looked out the window, and was ashamed that she found herself gawking. The Mansion had to easily have twenty bedrooms. She looked to it, three stories of solid granite, and rosewood doors at the entrance. She turned and saw the fountain, a fountain! An angel, wings spread with the water sprouting from its feathered ends. "Peter, how did you afford this?"<p>

He had climbed out of the cab, and was reaching into the back for their luggage. "Its not a resort," he looked at her confused expression and continued. "It's a friend's place, figured we could stay here. He said that the invite to come was always open." They turned to the entrance and Peter saw him. Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, smoking with a passion that would have impressed even Jonah. The living weapon just stared back at them. "Felicia, that's Logan." He lead the way up the steps, trying to whisper quietly enough so that he wouldn't hear. "I'm serious, no sudden mood-swings with him, he's a little 'intense'."

"Intense like focused, or intense like psychopathic?"

"The latter." They had reached the top, and stood waiting. Peter watched as he appraised him, and his nostrils flared slightly. _Are you sure that this was a good idea? He's an animal, I've seen your memories. I know what he's capable of. _Peter agreed, but he also knew that Logan was never violent with some sort of reason. "What Logan, no hello?" His reward was a snort as the smaller man strode forward.

"Ya smell like the web-head, and no one could be more annoying," his gaze shifted to Felicia and went from annoyed to entertained. "But he has a thing for redheads, not ditzy blondes."

"I may be blonde," Felicia drew herself up, shedding her sunglasses and letting him see the damage that was done to her. "But I am anything but 'ditzy'." Peter held his breath then, as he saw Logan clench his left hand. Slowly, he saw the gleaming metal slide from his knuckles. When he raised the blades, Felicia eyed them and smirked. "I have claws too, but mine are nicer to look at." Peter rolled his eyes, but kept silent. 'Felicia, while you're at it, why not just tell him he's got a stubby, little dick.' He heard the mutant start to growl, and after squatting, produced an identical set of claws. His senses were on fire, and he dropped the cases. _You did say that you two always met with a fight, maybe this is his way of saying hello. _Peter himself groaned, he could already feel the welts that he'd have afterwards.

"Logan that's enough." The two stopped and turned to the entrance. They could hear him coming first, the whirl of the motor was loud enough to announce his presence, even if he hadn't spoken. Slowly, he came into view. Professor Xavier was a slim made with an easy build. Dressed like his name sake, he looked more like a history buff than a psychic. "Peter, welcome back," he looked around, and saw Felicia, who had replaced her sunglasses. 'You don't have to hide your eyes my dear, we all have our scars.'

"What the hell!" Peter turned and saw her face, shock, awe, and anger. At him. He turned back to the Professor, and saw the man grin.

"My dear," Peter was grateful when her gaze became focused on the professor. "Myself, and the people who live here are, what you might say," he smiled again, and this time, even Peter heard him. 'Unique'. She nodded, and smiled.

"So, you're a psychic. Okay, I can deal with that, but what with shorty and the expensive manicure?" He heard the growl, but Peter relaxed as he heard the tell tale sound of the claws sheathing.

"That my dear is Logan, also known as 'The Wolverine'. Among his claws, he can heal from anything."

"So watch it girlie, anything you hit me with, I'll give back threefold." The trio watched as he reached into his pocket, produced a match, and walked away leaving a trail of smoke.

"You'll have to forgive Logan, he can be… trying at times. But, please come in." He rolled back, and shepherded them inside. As they fell into line, Peter could hear her speak, and she sounded worried. _Peter, I don't like him, he will try to read your, our thoughts. I don't want him in your head. _He couldn't agree more, having one voice made his head feel crowded enough. Eventually, they were ushered into a small room that Peter recognized as the Professor's study. He gestured for them to sit, and moved to be behind his desk. They sat in silence, until he deemed it necessary to speak. "Peter, not that I don't enjoy you being here, but I was surprised when Logan told me you were outside the front gate. That being said, why are you here?" Peter looked down at his lap, and took Felicia's uninjured hand in his.

"Professor, I don't know where to really start?"

"I have always found that the best place is at the beginning."

Felicia sat and listened to them talk. Like she said, she could deal with the bald guy being able to read minds. She could handle the fact that the short guy at the door carried butcher knives around inside his arms. Hell, she could understand how Peter had gotten in contact with them. But she couldn't figure out was why they had come out here for a getaway. When he had told her that they were taking a trip, she figured that it was going to be a cabin on the lake, fireplace and sex on the beach kind of vacation. Not hanging out with a group of super humans for two weeks.

_Still though, two weeks away from home was two weeks away from home. _She looked to Peter, and smiled. While she was disappointed that they would be staying in what the Professor had explained was a school. She knew they could have fun. She wasn't afraid to admit that she had a few fantasies involving a school setting. She was watching them both now, Peter explaining his divorce, and how they had gotten together. She didn't stop the hiss though when he got to what they were doing there. "I'm sorry, did you just say that we came here to hide?" Peter had the decency to blush at her outburst, and looked to the Professor for help.

"My dear," she turned to the psychic, and felt her anger fade. She just didn't see the need to be angry with him anymore. He was just being Peter, he wanted to get her out of harm's way, at least for a little bit. "You know how Peter can be, he just wanted to keep you safe. You mean so much to him."

"I suppose."

"Why don't you go to the kitchen, Ororo is there, and I'm sure she would love to meet you." She nodded and rose, going to the door.

"Peter," he turned to face her. "We will take about this later." She left, and he turned to face the Professor.

"Thanks for the save," the man chuckled.

"I thought you might need some help, she must be quite the handful back in Manhattan."

"You have no idea. So, Storm is here, anyone else?"

"I'm afraid its just the three of us. Jean and Scott took the children on a training mission around Virginia for a few weeks, Remy and Rogue have gone down to Louisiana to, 'get back to their roots', and Hank, he is now doing government work helping with mutant-human relations."

"Glad everyone is keeping busy."

"Yes, but what I want to talk about is you."

"Why?"

"I understood why you did what you did to this Fisk person. If someone had ever truly hurt the ones I cared about, I would want them to suffer as well. But I'm concerned about your sudden change. You've become more aggressive, quicker to violence, I remember what you were like when you first came here. And I am surprised at the change in your personality."

"I'll admit, I did notice the change, but my life hasn't been better. I have a woman who truly accepts what I am, and she wants to help me accomplish my goals. She wants me, she gives me a purpose I didn't know I was missing." The Professor nodded, and understood to a point, still.

"Peter, I would like to enter your mind. I remember what you told me, about how the alien creature could alter a person's mind. I am worried that the creature may have left something behind, something that may now just be starting to affect you. Please, let me check, if something is wrong I can help you."

_I am not a parasite Peter, I have told you this before. _'True, but the last thing a parasite would want would be for its host, me, to find out about it.'_ Very well, let him look. I have nothing to hide._ "Okay, but if you find anything wrong, you stop, get out and explain it." Peter relaxed, he already knew what to do, and slowly his mind became blank.

* * *

><p>Professor Xavier had seen may things in the minds of those he helped. He had seen the terrors that had haunted Logan's shattered memories, and had felt the power from Jean, but he had never encountered anything like this.<p>

The cave he stood in was immense. I reeked of age, and seemed to be endless, near the center a small fire burned. He couldn't find anything of Peter's mind, all he found was this. Then he felt it, a presence that seemed to radiate power as the dying embers faded. "I understand that you wanted to talk. Well, talk." He heard her voice echo throughout the chamber. The power was potent, almost the same as his, but it felt raw, fueled by Peter's emotions.

"What are you?" She laughed then, and he felt her behind him.

"I am something that you cannot even begin to understand." He turned but nothing was there. He chuckled, now knowing what a fly must feel like when caught in a web. Knowing that a tormentor was near by and unable to tell exactly where, or do anything about it.

"Then who are you?"

"You are much more intelligent and understanding than Peter, so I'll tell you a little more than what I told him." The fire was burning again, and he could make out a figure sitting just beyond its light. "I have been called many things, sometimes a Goddess, other times a Demon. I have been named a savior and a destroyer, but that is only due to whoever won that particular war. I have been called Lilith, Morrigan, Hecate, Maeve, Mab, angel, deliverer, lover, murderer, and countless others. I was the first, and now, I am probably the last." He noted that she seemed to speak with an air of self pity and disgust.

"So, then what is the symbiote to you?" He heard her huff with disgust.

"As I told Peter, I am nothing like a parasite, more like what they should have been." The flames again grew dim as she rose and walked. "I provide him with guidance, and see to it that he truly becomes all that he can be. I give him perspective and advice, and all I ask in return is a vessel to survive in. That is what those creatures were originally meant to do, but when they were created, they were never shown emotions.

"When they experienced them for the first time, it was intoxicating. They wanted more, and like a junkie, they had to keep getting more, even if it meant destroying the minds of those they were supposed to help." She turned to walk away. "Its time for you to leave," she flicked her wrist, and Xavier found himself being flung from the cave, unable to stop.

* * *

><p>Xavier felt himself being slammed back into his body, and watched as Peter came to, panting. He was at a loss. He had never experienced anything so powerful. Something that could force him out of another's mind. He was intrigued, but apprehensive, something so powerful could have destroyed him, but she hadn't. She had just sent him away. "Everything alright in there Professor?" He watched as the boy tapped the side of his head.<p>

He looked to Peter and nodded. "Yes, I believe that whatever inhabits you means only good, but it is powerful. She had avoided my skills, never allowed me to see her, and forced me out of your mind as if I were a novice. She didn't tell me much, but all I know for sure is that she, at this point, is only wanting to help you in exchange for a host."

"So, she is a symbiote?"

"I don't know," he rolled towards the door, and motioned for Peter to follow. "But I suggest that you don't dwell too much on it. Only worry if you truly do something wrong. So far, it seemed that you have only acted violent when it would be considered morally acceptable. Understood?"

"Sure."

"Very good, so, lets go find your friend."

* * *

><p>They were nearing the kitchen when Peter heard the women laughing. As they entered, he was shocked by the conversation, and apparently the comparisons. "My dear, if you think that little love bite is bad, you should she what Logan did to my legs." He was stunned as he saw Storm, one of the most conservative women he had ever met, roll up her skirt revealing rounded white scars on otherwise flawless skin.<p>

"Are we interrupting?" He was given two identical grins, and the room seemed to stand still.

"Ororo, behave," Xavier entered shortly afterwards, and gestured to Felicia. "I believe that our visitors might want to get settled." Peter nodded, after having another voice rattling around inside his head, he needed a break. To do something that didn't require any real thought. _I wholeheartedly agree. _"Peter, Felicia, your things are upstairs, just start trying doors until you find one that's open." Peter nodded, already walking out.

"Felicia," she stopped when the other woman called to her.

"Yes?"

* * *

><p>"Have fun." She laughed as she walked away. Storm turned to her cup, smiling as the door swung shut. She was glad she could make girl laugh, after what had been done to her. When she saw the scar forming on Felicia's neck, she knew exactly what had happened. <em>Nice to see another woman has an aggressive and possessive man. <em>

"Ororo," she looked to the professor.

"Yes Charles?"

"I understand that you and Logan are 'together', but I really don't need to know how 'together'." She blushed, but nodded.

"Of course Charles." He nodded and started to leave.

"One more thing Ororo." She looked to him expectantly. He smiled, even after all these years, she still looked to him like the small girl he had found. "Can you two please try to keep it down at night, I'm not light sleeper, but you two wake everyone _every _night." He chuckled, closing the door before hearing her explanation.

* * *

><p>Felicia smiled as they eventually found the room. It was somewhat Spartan. A closet, bathroom, dresser, and a king-sized bed in the center. In other words, a large dorm room. She immediately fell onto the bed, spreading out and getting a feel for it. <em>Firm,<em> she gaze drifted to Peter as he emptied their things into the dresser. _Good. _She rose quietly, and wrapped her arms around him. "Peter, I wanna play." He smiled. _Well, indulge her. _Turning around, he embraced her, and she surprised him by clawing at his shirt. After she had removed it, she pulled his head low. "Get those pants off and your ass in bed, now!" He was surprised at her forwardness, but didn't argue. As he walked away, he let his jeans fall and sat down, waiting for her.

_All for me, _she slinked over to the bed, taking great care in slowly stripping for him. She could tell he was ready, but he had teased her before, _turnabout is fair game_. Eventually, she was near the bed, and gracefully settled into his lap, guiding him into her. "Now Peter," she slowly had to pump him, and he had to focus on what she was saying. He slowly brought his gaze to her and nodded. "Look at this," she turned her neck, and he stared at the scar. I was getting clearer, and he had the feeling that it wasn't going to be fading anytime soon. Her pace started to quicken, and he bit his lip to keep from groaning. "Remember what I told you, how I would put my mark on you?"

She squeezed him then, and he couldn't stop the growl. She grinned wickedly at that, and sped up her pace. "Payback can be a bitch." He felt her hands slide to the middle of his back, and her nails dig into his skin. She began to moan, and he placed his hands at her hips, pumping into her, increasing the ever building pace. _She's making you hers. Tell her. DO IT! _

"I'm yours," he felt her nails start to drag up towards his shoulders. The pressure was harder than before, but he enjoyed it. She wanted him, then she could have him.

"Louder."

"I'M YOURS," he roared into her neck, shaking as he felt her tighten around him, and her hands suddenly ripping up to his shoulders. They held each other afterwards, shaking from the pleasure. He watched as she raised her hands to his face, and he saw it. Her hands were covered in blood. His blood.

"Now we're even." She pushed him back onto the bed, and laid down on top of him. He felt the need for sleep start to take him, and began to drift off when he heard her. "And Peter?" He opened his eyes, and gazed at her. "Don't plan on wearing a shirt to breakfast. Ororo said she wanted to see my handiwork after tonight." He chuckled and pulled her close, letting himself drift to oblivion.

* * *

><p>In the dark recesses of the mind, many things are able to hide. Hidden thoughts, desires, animal instincts. Everything that a person wanted to forget or needed to hide is kept there. Alpha walked there, it was her haven, and her playground. She went to the memory that had just been burned onto the wall, an image of his marking. Next to it was when he had marked Felicia. "Everything is going smoothly." Her eyes drifted over to an image of his symbiotic suit. "Very soon, that will be forgotten, and I will take its place."<p>

* * *

><p>Again, sorry for taking so long with the updates. Reviews are always appreciated, but now, down to business. I am putting out a challenge for all my readers. The king pin has two more strikes left, and I need to send someone to the plate. I challenge you all to send me two characters you would like to see go up against Peter and Felicia. But I don't want just a character's name, I want to know why. Convince me why I should use those characters, and I'll give the winner(s) credit for the chapter, and will send them a preview to see what they think ahead of publishing.<p>

Thanks for reading and take it easy,

-N


	7. Questions & Revelations

Questions & Revelations

Well, after much thought and research, I am happy to bring you all the next chapter in 'Starting Over'. I would like to thank Ability King KK and petescheude for their input in writing this chapter, without their help, I would be at a standstill in regards to writing this. A heads up though, this chapter will contain strong, graphic violence. Anyone who has problems with that, please wait until my next posting. To whoever reads, please enjoy and review.

-N

* * *

><p>It had been too long since he had seen him. His fellow crime bosses had all but stopped their activities out of fear of his retribution. After what had happened to Swarm, they were all now aware of what the menace was capable of. He raised his hand, and rubbed the mark that was now almost healed. He would never forget what that boy had done to him. He didn't really think that the boy would have the drive to commit himself to the act, but the scar proved otherwise.<p>

Fisk rose and walked to his window, knowing that Spider-Man, the masked_ hero_ who had always been an annoyance, was swiftly becoming something much more troublesome. He had gone from being a perpetual thorn in his side to an unacceptable risk, one that had to be dealt with. With extreme prejudice.

* * *

><p>"Twenty points," he cackled as the dart landed near the hollow of her throat. The woman had stopped screaming hours ago. He didn't even really know her name, just that she had bumped into him at the bar, ruining a perfect shot and costing him twenty bucks in a bet. After the money had exchanged hands, he had gone up to her and bought her a few drinks before taking to his home. She had come willingly, and that was the best part. She willingly became a part of his games. He raised his eyes to the three inch nails holding her to the drywall. In his mind, she resembled a macabre version of Christ on the cross. "You bleed beautifully," he walked to her, and almost lovingly pulled the darts from her skin. The blood that flowed soon joined the rest pooling on his carpet.<p>

When he resumed his place across the room, he groaned as he heard his phone start to ring. "One moment please," he raised his free hand in apology to the woman's blank eyes, and left the room, the better to focus on his caller. "What!" He didn't hide the anger in his voice, no one had the right to interrupt his game.

"I have a job for you," he heard the deep rumble and smiled. He hadn't had any work in months, and the King Pin always did give him the best targets, the most challenging opponents.

"I'm all ears boss," he walked back to the woman, and picked up the discarded darts.

"I want Spider-Man eliminated." He smiled into the phone. Spider-Man, the guy was bothering everyone lately. People were afraid to go out at night and do their jobs now, especially after the rumors of what he had done to the King Pin. To bring him down would make him truly the best. After that, all the work in the city would come to him, and no one would dare try to bring him down.

"What about the woman who's running with him?" He threw the first dart, and growled as he missed. He was too excited about this, he had to calm down, to focus.

"Whatever you want." He cackled into the phone, the woman had lost too much blood now, and didn't make any noise as the projectile buried itself in her shoulder.

"Done."

"Very well, I'll send you everything I have on the both of them."

"No need boss," he looked to the steel case that occupied the bed. "I already have everything I need."

"Come see me when you're finished."

He heard him hang up and focused back on the body that hung from the wall. He could see that she had stopped breathing, and shook his head slightly. She had had so much potential, but instead had chosen to falter and fail his expectations. But that woman, the Black Cat, she would be perfect. He could enjoy her for hours. The flawless white skin and piercing eyes could captivate him for hours with the fury they would hold. Even if she chose not to scream and simply suffer, he could use the new dartboard. Yeah, a few days of research, and the game would start. _Have to be on top of my game._ He took aim and threw, smiling as it pierced her eye. _No problem._ He stared at the body, frowning at the wounds that had gone from a steady flow to a slow drip.

He started to pull the nails holding her up, and after releasing her, dragged the corpse to his window. He leaned out, and could barely see the dumpster sitting in the alley. Flinging her out the window, he waited until he heard the faint metallic thump, and smiled widely. "Bulls eye."

* * *

><p>It had been almost a month since they had left Manhattan, longer than he had planned, and frankly, they didn't want to go back. Peter was enjoying the peace and quiet, and Felicia, he looked to her, already curled up and asleep in the truck. She had enjoyed the attention that the school and town had given her.<p>

He remembered when they had gone down for breakfast the next morning, and how he had somehow lost all his shirts sometime in the evening. That being said, he was forced to attend an already tense meal, where he was greeted by a whistle of approval from the black woman who stood at the kitchen counter. He had hoped that he would be only mildly embarrassed of the damage Felicia had caused, but Logan had decided to go for the kill. "Get your cat declawed, and you won't have those problems." He felt himself glowing red, and wasn't able to speak, and sadly, his girlfriend had needed to come to his rescue.

"Jealous that a woman can leave her mark on him?" She had then stared pointedly at him and turned her gaze to the woman who sat beside him. The woman had merely giggled when he growled, and proceeded to actually pet the man until he had calmed down. From that point on, he had locked himself in the mansion's lab, and only came out for meals and rest. Sadly though, even the quiet silence of the lab was ruined.

True, he had enjoyed the times when Felicia when came down into the room, and proceeded to act out what she considered several of her darker fantasies. But shortly after one of those enjoyable distractions, he was again interrupted. He had been so focused on trying to improve his web shooters, convinced that he could implement the immobilizers into the weapons, when he heard it. He had thought nothing of the crash, considering their training area shared the lab's wall, until Logan had crashed through it.

The man was ragged, covered in slashes, and his eyes were almost glazed over with the fury they held. He just roared out his frustration, and Peter watched, stunned, as he dove back through the opening. Seconds later, Felicia landed inside the lab, granted more gracefully. He could only watch as she adjusted her now shredded costume, waved to him and with a laugh, leapt back in. He had turned back to what was left of the lab, and continued his work. Even when Alpha had demanded that he stop them, he continued. She wanted to fight with Logan, and he wanted to work. Peter knew that if he tried to stop them, they would both just come after him.

That event had been the most memorable, and when they had left, everyone was, more or less, friendly. She had even suggested they come back when everyone else was there. She said she wanted to try and get under the skin of every male in the building. He looked to her then, and relaxed. The good food and atmosphere had done wonders. The bruises were completely gone, and thankfully, the red in her eyes had faded to what might only be thought of as a bad case of pink eye. She was wearing a pair of black jeans that hugged her form, one of his wife beaters, and her black cat heels. He almost wished that she had the jeans rolled up. He enjoyed just how much they accentuate her legs, not that he would ever openly admit it to her.

His eyes drifted momentarily to the camera that was one the dash. He had been forced to take some pictures of them together, sailing over the low buildings, and stopping the one burglar who had taken it upon himself to actually try to fight back. Peter remembered when he swung the pry bar he carried against his shoulder. He felt the joint pop out of its socket, but didn't show it. He merely restrained the man, and calmly wrapped the metal around his wrists. When they were safely away, he allowed Felicia to wrench his bones back into place. He couldn't help but think that she had enjoyed doing that, but like she had said then, when they got back, she had "kissed" it all better.

He brought his eyes back to the road, and mentally checked the list in his head. When they got back, he would go to Jameson, drop off the photos, listen to the lecture of how he was wasting the company's time, collect his check, and come home to start his patrols. He was worried though, being gone for so long. Fisk may have gotten cocky, he might have even started doing more damage than when he had left. _No, but he will be waiting, be ready. _He nodded, no matter what Fisk sent his way, he could bring him down. He was Spider-Man, there was nothing that could stop him.

* * *

><p>He stared over the photos scattered on the bed. He couldn't help but smile as he mentally checked the list of what he had learned. Spider-Man was fast, that went without saying, but he almost seemed to be a psychic. Every person who had gone after him and lived all said the same thing. It was like he could sense that he was in trouble before it was even there. He remembered the similar problem he had had with the Daredevil, and while the fool was still alive, he had taught him so much. He had learned how to overwhelm someone with powers, to even the playing field. This one wouldn't be any different.<p>

His gaze drifted over to the video of the Black Cat he had playing on a loop. She seemed to always fight the same way. Kick, punch, swipe, flip, repeat. She was quick, but other than that, she wasn't exceptional. She would be easy to bring down. That was the key, bring her down and the fight would begin. He turned to the window, and wished that he would see them, but shook the thought away. He wasn't ready yet, a few more days, and he could attack. When they met, the battle would be epic.

* * *

><p>"Explain to me again why this trip was so important Parker?" He sat across from Jameson, and silently told the man just what he thought. <em>Go on Peter, tell him. I think its hysterical. So did Felicia. <em>He had originally told the man that Spider-Man and the Black Cat were leaving town for a few weeks, but he wasn't sure why, all he had known was that it was big. Then, Felicia had come up with what she thought was a brilliant plan, but it had made him nervous. She liked to play head games with him, to mess with him. Was she doing that to him now, or sending signals?

'Well, you're female, is she?' _Like I'd tell a man, I might be inside your head, but a woman doesn't give these kinds of secrets away, we have a code._ 'I don't even know if you're human, and you call yourself a woman'? He heard her laugh, and he could picture he shaking her had at him in pity and denial for answers. _Gender transcends the species barrier. Deal with it and tell him the lie._ "I'm waiting Parker."

With a huff of air, he blurted it out, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. "I believe that Spider-Man and the Black Cat went on a honeymoon." The only noise he heard was the sound of Jameson biting clean through the cigar. He stood gazing at him, eyes wide and chewing on the end.

"What proof do you have?"

"Well," he opened the folder he held, and slid the first picture across the desk. The first was one that was already published, her pining him against the wall. "First, the obvious fact that they're together." He pulled the next photo, and slid it across. It was when they were performing stake outs over several jewelry stores, before he had first confronted Fisk. "Secondly, they were sighted constantly over stores that deal exclusively in wedding bands." He could see the gears turning in Jameson's head, and wrinkled his face in disgust as the man began to chew feverously on the cigar's remains. "Then they disappear for a while, and I find them in a quiet area of southeast New York, being very," he blushed then, knowing what the camera had captured. "Together." It was of right after they caught the burglar, and Felicia, in the heat of the moment, had leapt up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and was in the process of peeling his shirt off when the camera caught them. "See what I mean?"

He heard Jameson bark out a laugh then, and did something he would never have expected. He jumped, actually jumped over the desk, clearing the furniture, and embraced Peter like he was his long lost son. "This is great kid, that menace is gonna make us rich." He ran to his phone, and started screaming before he had even finished dialing. "Stop the presses and start a new layout. I'm sending you photos and articles will follow." He turned to Peter and gave him a thumbs up. "I want the front page to read, 'Masked Menace and Queen of Thievery Tie the Knot' Got it." He spit out the stub, and fished another out of his desk. Lighting it, he grabbed his check book, and after writing, tore the paper loose. "Take this and celebrate. Have fun, I sure will be tonight." He took a long drag and again barked out his laugh, grasping the pictures as if they were gold.

He walked out of the office, closing the door and gawking at the check. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Still though, his mind drifted back to what Felicia had said. It was just a little white lie, nothing would happen. 'Would it?' His only answer was the silent laughter that filled his head.

* * *

><p>He started to pull on the Kevlar vest, and smiled at the brand over his heart. He had put it there himself, so if someone was ever lucky enough to get a shot, they'd know where to aim. The vest secure, he reached for the belt that held his knives. Twenty perfectly weighted and chromed blades that flew so perfectly that the wind sang over their edges. He reached for the arm guards and slid them on. Each one held four loaded needles. He didn't know how much he'd need to put her down, but he would be ready. When she went down, the fun would really start. Finally, he reached for several concussion grenades and hung them from the vest. They were loud and bright, and destroyed any normal person's senses. He couldn't wait to see what they could do to the wall crawler. Finished, he reached for his duster, and after pulling it on, went to the window, and climbed the fire escape. Reaching the roof, he looked around and waited.<p>

He had chosen this area for a reason, the 'lovebirds', as the news rags were calling them, had starting hunting in this area more often, so his best bet was that they were in this area. He sat down on a ledge, and pulling out a tooth pick, began to chew it. "Clocks ticking, and I'm waiting." He cackled into the night, wishing that they would hear him. He was finally ready, after all this time. And he would win. Spider-Man would be dead and his woman would belong to him.

* * *

><p>"Why can't we just go back to your place? I'll even put on that dress you like, <em>honey<em>." He rolled his eyes at the woman laughing beside him. "You know, the red one." They had only been on patrol for a few hours, and she was already wanting to leave. When they had gotten back, she was dying to go out, and had even talked him into staying out until sunrise a few nights. But now, since they had found nothing, she was complaining. But he didn't miss the teasing in her voice. The second the Bugle had starting publishing, she had called, demanding that they start living together since they had were now "married". 'She is enjoying this way too much.' _So? _'Just shut up.'

"Well _dear, _we can go in a little while. I just want everyone to know that we're back in town." He leapt over the edge of the building and she followed him.

Felicia couldn't understand why he was acting so strange. Sure, it was a little weird, everyone thinking that they were married, but it was just a lie so that his boss wouldn't chew his ass out for skipping town for a while. Granted, she really did enjoy hearing everyone talk about them being together. She smiled, thinking about how her friends started to complain about how Spider-Man was now tied down.

_Maybe one day, _she shook the thought from her head. They were only good friends, fuck buddies, nothing really more than that. She didn't know how things would end up, but she knew one thing, he cared about her. She remembered when he had told her what he had done to Swarm. How he had told her that he had killed a man and scarred another for her. It was really romantic, in a Ted Bundy slash Casanova kind of way. When she fired her grapple hook, her hand reached up and stroked her neck.

It had completely healed, and now, she had marked him as well. Her nails had really carved his back, and she knew it would be much longer until they had scarred over. She wasn't even sure why she had done it. At the time, Felicia felt that it was just fair game, getting him back for what he had done. Now though, as she watched him swing up to the top of the building, she wasn't so sure. Maybe she did want the lie to be true. When she landed on the roof, she stumbled, surprised by what she was thinking. Did she, Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat, want to get married?

"Felicia, everything all right?" She turned to face him, and started to speak, when she felt it. A sharp prick and a sudden pressure. She raised a hand to her neck, and felt the object sticking into her skin. With a quick pull, she looked at the glass dart, and noticed her vision had started to blur. Dropping it to the ground, she heard the glass break, and stumbled to her knees.

"What?" she started to fall, but not before she heard the hiss.

"Bulls eye."

* * *

><p>Peter had noticed that Felicia was lagging behind him towards the end of their patrol. When he had landed, he was waiting for her, and after a few minutes, she had finally appeared. "Felicia, everything all right?" She had started to speak when he heard it. The noise was strange. It sounded like the wind was whistling, and yet, there hadn't been a breeze all night. They, he saw something bury itself into her neck. He had started to run towards her, and was only partially relieved when she pulled the object free and saw it was only a dart. He grabbed her as she fell, and began to panic when she slipped into unconsciousness.<p>

He felt his senses start to explode when he heard the sound of boots crunch on the roof. He spun, and saw the man. He would never forget him, never not know who he was. His skin was pale white, and the brown eyes seemed to accentuate the crazed look that he wore on his face. He saw that he was wearing the standard Kevlar vest and was covering himself with his classic black duster. He took a moment to eye the weapons he wore, and raised his gaze to the brand that was seared into his smooth forehead. The target insignia only confirmed who he thought the man was. 'Bulls eye.' He pulled Felicia closer, and started to turn, but stopped when the man only laughed.

"Don't worry, I didn't hurt her." He stared at the sleeping woman. "I'm planning on having loads of fun with her."

_He hurt her. KILL HIM! _Setting her down on the roof, he felt his lungs fill with rage towards the man before charged forward, ignoring the warnings his body told him, slamming hard into the assassin, sending him spinning into the rooftop wall. He smiled as he saw the wall collapse, and bury him. He turned back to Felicia, determined to get her to safety, when he felt a burning sensation in his lower back. Reaching behind himself, he grasped the object and pulled the knife free, allowing it to drop to the ground. He turned to face Bulls Eye, who had dug himself free and was still wearing the same smile.

"Congrats, you drew first blood," he raised a hand, and wiped the blood from his nose. He looked to Spider-Man and frowned. "I missed your kidney, sorry." He pulled a second knife free and drew his arm back. "I was too excited." He threw the blade and grinned when his target caught the blade in mid air, allowing it to join its brother on the roof. "You're good," he reached under his duster and grasped the grenade. "But I'm better."

Peter watched as the object sailed towards him, and tried to drive away, but wasn't quite fast enough. He felt the force of the blast, and his sight filled with white light. He fell to the ground screaming, the pain was excruciating, his senses were on fire. They were screaming at him, telling him that danger was all around him. But he couldn't focus, the pain and noise was too much. Then he felt it. In his mind, Peter could even place where the blade had entered his body. It had pierced him high, through his chest on the left side, into the hollow of his clavicle. 'Painful, but not lethal, get up!' The second found itself buried deep into the middle of his chest, effectively splitting his sternum and piercing his lung. He coughed and tasted the copper. _Get up, you've got to keep fighting. _He tried to stand, and felt a blade slam into the back of his right knee, destroying the joint. Collapsing, Peter felt his vision clear and saw the man standing over him, shaking his head in disgust.

"I thought you would be better." He raised a bent piece of rebar to his face, and gestured with it to the pile of broken concrete behind him. "I'll start with her here," Peter could only cough as the blood started to pour from his mouth, soaking his suit and joining the rest on the roof. "That way, she can she just how good I really am." Peter raised his hands, trying to grasp the metal rod, but the object just slowly slid through his gloves, coming to rest on the plastic lens over his left eye. "I win." With a grunt, the man slammed his full weight onto the bar, grinning as he felt it stop on the roof. Peter didn't know what he could do, he just heard the crack of the plastic, felt the searing pain as he was impaled, and then, nothing.

* * *

><p>He was back in the cave, and didn't know what to think at this point. The cave around him was collapsing, and he could see what looking like webbing was the only thing holding the roof up. He looked to the center, and saw that the fire was barely burning, the only light was from a single coal, that was gradually growing dimmer. "You idiot!" He heard the scream and the sound of running feet. The ground and ceiling shuddered, and suddenly stopped. "He has killed you, and I can barely keep us here."<p>

"So what do I do!" He screamed at her, angry at himself and fearful for Felicia. She was defenseless. He had just experienced first hand what that psychopath could do, and now he was gone, and he couldn't protect her.

"Go back and finish him!" The ground again shuddered, and a fissure opened, causing half the cave to collapse around them.

"HOW!" He suddenly saw it. A hand, small and feminine reaching out to him. It was covered, or hidden, in the black shadows and all he could do was stare at it. Its palm up, waiting.

"Take my hand. I can help you!" He didn't think, didn't question her. Peter just grasped her hand, but panicked when her grip crushed his hand, and held him steady. "Trust me." He could only watch as a familiar blackness crept up his arm towards him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

* * *

><p>Felicia woke and saw that she was still on the roof, and she was bound with what looked like electrical wire. She looked around and felt her heart break. Laying not ten feet from her was Peter. She could see the blades sticking out of his chest and his leg. She cringed when she saw the five foot bar that had been pushed through his head standing straight up from the roof. His blood had pooled around him, and she knew then that he was gone. He was gone and he wasn't coming back. She heard the cackle then. Turning her head, she saw the man. Even without the weapons or brand, she would have recognized him anywhere.<p>

She had met Bulls Eye on several occasions during her forced servitude to Fisk, and each time, he was covered in blood and wearing that same maniacal grin. He would stare at her for hours, and each time, he disgusted her. Now here she was, trapped and at his mercy. "I have waited a long time for you Cat."

She could only spit in his face, and grimace as his wiped his face and licked his fingers. He turned lazily to Peter's body, and all she could do was scream her rage at him. "Don't worry Kitten, you'll live a lot longer than he did." She turned away as he drew one of his knives. Her eyes settled on Peter, willing him to just sit up. _Help me. _She continued to watch him, and saw that the blood had started to soak into the ground, almost disappearing.

But then, she watched as he started to move. She wanted to scream at him, for him to help her, but knew she needed to be quiet. If he knew that Peter was still alive, he would simply finish him. She turned her gaze back to the killer, and growled. "You think you can hurt me. You don't have the guts, you balless fuck." She heard the knife bury itself in the wall next to her head, and turned her face away as he pressed himself against her.

"Oh, I can assure you, I've definitely got the stones darling." She looked to Peter and saw that he now was sitting up. He had pulled the blades from his body, and was grasping the bar still buried inside his skull. She couldn't look away as he pulled it free with a jerk, and how no fluids seemed to pour out, it just came free and nothing else. She noticed then that he wasn't acting right. The way he had stood up and moved, it was like he wasn't in control of his body. As if he was on auto pilot or something was controlling him. Something that didn't know how a person was supposed to move. Soon, he was behind them, and he slammed the man into the wall, burying one of the blades into his shoulder.

She took pleasure in hearing Bulls Eye scream and saw that the blade was pushed through him, eventually pinning him onto the wall. Peter stepped back then, and almost robotically pulled her free. He embraced her once and turned back to the man. "I already know, but I'm still gonna ask," he gripped the man, turning his head to face him. "Who sent you?"

"Fuck you." Bulls Eyes was not ready when the man grasped the blade, twisting it freeing him and slamming his body onto the roof. He was stunned as the Spider-Man sprayed his webs, securing him to the ground. He struggled as the man reached forward, grasping his right hand and extended each of his fingers until he settled on the smallest one. With a quick wrench, Bulls Eye screamed as he felt his finger, now bent at a ninety degree angle to the left.

"I have just broken your little finger," he now held the one next to it. "Tell me who sent you." The only answer he received was a glob of spit hitting the intact lens of his mask. "Very well."

Felicia could only watch as he went through the routine with Bulls Eye. She watched as he would break each of the man's fingers, and ask the same question. Yet the man only shook his head. She had to give him credit though; to take this kind of abuse, and not crack, it was almost impressive. Almost. She noticed that Peter had finished with the man's hands, and had moved on to his wrists, when he stopped.

"I know that the King Pin sent you." He reached into the man's jacket, and pulled one of his knives free. "I just wanted to hear you say it." Placing a hand on his forehead, he pushed his head down, and stared into his eyes. "I want you to deliver a message for me."

* * *

><p>Wilson Fisk was actually smiling. His assassin had contacted him, saying that the job would be done tonight. He had even promised to bring him the wall crawler's mask. Such a trophy would be a thing of true beauty. He wasn't even sure what he would do with it. It would probably take its place on his mantle. True, it wasn't the man's heart, but still, it would do.<p>

He looked out his windows, and saw a shadow moving across the rooftops, carrying another. He rubbed his hands together, the boy had probably decided to just bring him the entire body. He rose and walked to his bar. Pouring himself a brandy, he raised it to the window, saluting his victory. With the man's body, he would never be questioned by the other crime bosses. One look at the mangled remains, and they would know that he was in charge, and that they should always cower in fear of him.

He waited, and was not ready when the body crashed through his window. Cautiously, he inched his way forward, and growled when he heard the body start to groan. Leaning over, he saw it was his Bulls Eye. One look and he knew that the man had been broken. It was not his hands, but in his eyes and mutterings. Gingerly, he lifted the man as if he were a child, and carried him to his chair. "Bulls Eye my boy, what happened?"

The man gazed at his employer and shuddered. "He's not human boss. I put a knife in his lung, a chunk of rebar through his eye, and watched as he bled out on that roof, and still, he sat up! It was like he didn't even feel it!" He screamed and raised his mangled limbs. "Look what he did to my fucking hands." He openly cried then, out of pain and failure. He had only failed once, and even then, he had recovered. He didn't know if he could now. Looking at his hands, he didn't know if any surgeon was good enough to repair him. "I failed."

"I know my boy, but that's all right, we're only human." He felt the heavy hands on his shoulders and shuddered with pain. "It won't happen again," he raised his eyes, and saw only concern in his employer's eyes.

"No s-," he didn't finish as his neck was broken. Fisk looked at the lifeless body that now sat before him. He knew that this was getting serious, two of his men were now dead, one by his own hand. His eyes fell to the brand on the man's forehead, now covered by two bloody vertical lines. _Strike two._ He couldn't stand this anymore. Looking at the body, he reached for his phone and dialed a number. "I need someone to come and remove some garbage from my office." He looked at the broken killer. _Bulls Eye should have known better_, he walked back to the shattered window. "I don't tolerate failure."

* * *

><p>Felicia stared at Peter as he got ready for bed. She watched as he peeled off the remains of his costume, and was shocked when she saw only faint red marks on his face and body where he had been punctured that night. She was still staying with him, and couldn't forget what had happened on the roof. She knew that he had been dead. What else could have happened with those injuries? He had seemed perfectly fine when he carved the mark into the killer's forehead, as if rising from the dead was a common occurrence for him. She didn't even argue with him when he told her to leave. She had gone back to his place while he took the killer back to his boss. "Peter, what happened?"<p>

He froze, not even sure himself. "I don't know, I think someone must be watching out for me." he went to her, and pulled her close. She felt the love he had for her, as well as the fear at almost losing her. "We'll talk more tomorrow." She nodded and allowed him to pull her into the bed, wrapping his arms around her. Peter slowly drifted off, willing himself to sleep, he needed answers.

* * *

><p>"What the Fuck are you?" He was back in the cave and the fire was burning brightly. The walls were still cracked, but seemed to be mending themselves. He could see her more clearly then. She appeared to be just a shadow, one that existed anywhere, even in light.<p>

"I already told you, I'm complicated." She gave him a calm answer, as if she knew already what he wanted to ask.

"Don't feed me that bullshit. I remember what happened when I grabbed your hand." He was furious, and stepped around the flame, and watched as she shrunk away from him. "You are nothing but a leech, a parasite." The walls shook then, and she stopped. The shadow seemed to grow until it towered over him.

"I saved your life, and this is how I am repaid?" He voice sounded like thunder. "I have already told you, I am not a symbiote!" Her roar was deafening, but he didn't flinch. He swore that he would never be their slave again, and here he was, attached to one, and he was actually letting it have free reign.

"Then what are you?" The shadow seemed to shrink down, until it had become its normal size.

"This wasn't how I wanted you to find out." He felt as if her eyes were searching his face, as if she was trying to apologize. "You really want to know?" He only nodded and stared at her. "Fine."

* * *

><p>Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it seemed like a good place to stop. Please, I don't mean to beg for them, but all reviews are welcome.<p>

Take it Easy,

-N


	8. Answers

Answers

_Sorry the updates are slow, but family comes first. We recently had some scares, and so my mind wasn't into writing. Here is the next chapter, and a heads up. 'Starting Over' is close to being wrapped up, and I will be taking a break from Spider-Man afterwards. I have been getting requests to write several other genres and I feel that I owe them. So, I will do just that. I am willing to write a sequel once this is finished, but I need to know you all want it. In other words, start sending me 'yeas' or 'nays' on a sequel. Til then, enjoy._

_-N_

* * *

><p>"Then if you want to know," Peter watched as she swept her hand over the flames, and they seemed to burn out. The light going from the single spot to the walls, giving a soft glow. "Follow me." She turned on her heel, and started to walk. He followed her, anger still ringing in his ears, but relief that he would finally know what she was. "As I told you before, I am complicated." His step quickened, and as he fell in step with her, he took a moment to really examine her.<p>

To Peter, she stood five foot two, maybe three. Her face, he couldn't tell; even though there was none, she was still hidden in the shadows. The only thing her saw were her eyes. All the other times, he had just guessed that she was facing him, now, he saw those eyes. Solid orbs, almost liquid in appearance, gave off an eerie yellow glow. Her figure though, that was something that he could appreciate. Her curves, they seemed to resemble Felicia, if not surpassed her body. He wondered if he touched her, would his hand pass through, or feel flesh. _Get your mind out of the gutter Parker. _

"I hope you don't mind," he raised his eyes to hers, and saw those eyes, almost flickering in amusement. "You always did find Felicia attractive, and I simply decided to copy, and," she waved a hand over herself. "Upgrade myself to her form, when I was strong enough to create a body."

"Wait, what?" She gave a laugh then, and the cave around him seemed to glow brighter.

"You're right, I'm getting ahead of myself. The best place to start is at the beginning." They walked in silence, until her hand shout out in front of him, stopping him. "Do you recognize this woman?"

Peter raised his face to the wall, and let out a low growl. While she kept telling him that what she did was in his, and the world's best interests, he always did feel like she was just playing with him. She was always sitting in that damn chair, talking to him in that condescending tone of voice, treating him as if he were a child. He remembered the one time he saw the woman's eyes, how they made his skin crawl, deep set and jaundiced. Yeah, she was hell, and probably one of the most powerful beings he had ever met.

"Madame Web, what about her?" Alpha laughed again, and raised her hand, almost lovingly stroking the image on the stone.

"Her people were the ones that gave me life, I can still remember it well. Being created in a flash of light, and then she stood there. Yeah that's right, there was a time when she did more than just sit and tell riddles." He felt her gaze on him, and Peter only nodded.

"She told me that a time would come when there would be a battle between good and evil. That I would be needed to influence the good. She told me that I was Alpha, the first and the last of my kind. That I was her crowning achievement to the galaxy. That she cared for me, and was essentially, my mother, but that I would also need to leave. I didn't understand why she wanted me to leave, but I did anyway. Another flash of light, and I found myself here, on Earth."

They left the wall, and continued to walk. Eventually, they came to another. It was covered by a woman. She appeared to be only thirteen, and masses kneeled before her. She sat on a throne, and her eyes glowed yellow. "When I came here, I was weak, I learned then that I needed a vessel to survive. That child there," she pointed to the girl. "Just happened to be the closest thing, and when I took her, I knew all that she did." The hand closed into a fist and struck the stone, causing the wall to shudder and crack.

"She had spent her life being beaten and abused by her family, being treated little more then a slave. But when I joined with her, others thought she had become a Goddess. They spoke her name with relevance, and treated the child like a queen. Until they decided that she had grown too powerful." Alpha turned abruptly and walked away. Peter had to sprint to keep up. Granted, this all seemed like a lie, but it was a good one, and he wanted to se just how far it went.

"What happened to the girl?" As she walked, Alpha raised a hand to a shadowed image. Peter couldn't see it clearly, but could make out a form surrounded by flames.

"What happens to every being that people grow to hate then fear? She was condemned to die, and as they laid her body in an unmarked grave, I was left to find another host. This went on for centuries. I would find someone, help them become the best they could be, become a beacon of good for their people, only to watch them become feared, hated, and ultimately killed by the one's they had protected."

They soon came to a wall that showed a stone tomb. From what Peter could tell, it looked as if it were Greek, but he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that it was solid. "Eventually, after watching countless people die because of me, I grew tired of it all, and simple fell asleep. I was content to just lie in some hole for all eternity. Let my body dry up and fade away, screw my mission. If all I brought was misery and death, then how could I be a force for good?" She turned her gaze to Peter, and he found that he could only nod. It was kind of sad, even if it was just a really fancy lie.

"Well, eventually, I did die, and BAM, I was standing in front of Mother. God was she pissed. She spend years screaming at me and chewing my ass out, telling me that I couldn't forsake my destiny. That no matter what happened, I couldn't walk away from that. You know what I mean?"

"I follow, but what is the point of all this? Why am I getting to hear your life story?"

"You wanted to know what I was, so I am telling you. Were you expecting a quick ten second story?" She stopped to stare at him, and Peter felt his face flush. How was it that a woman, with just a pair of eyes, could appear so intimidating. "I'll take your silence as a yes, but anyway, back to my story."

"Mother was furious that I had given up, but I explained to her that I couldn't do it anymore. How could she expect me to do good when all I had seen was evil? That was when I saw first hand how cruel Mother could be. She told me that I didn't even know what evil was, but that I would learn, and grow to despise it."

"She did something to me then, she told me that I was going to be a mother myself. My child would be a part of me, and that it would be blank compared to me. It would know nothing of emotions, of right and wrong, that it would be up to me to teach it and protect it. Naturally, like any other parent, I felt that I would be perfect. That I would be nothing like my own mother was. How pathetic is that?"

They were now staring at a picture of himself in the black suit. He remembered how everything he did felt better than it had before. How each punch thrown, every web swing, every step he ever took felt like it was the most incredible thing he had ever done.

"Eventually though, I realized exactly what my Mother had done to me. I realized that my child was addicted to what he was experiencing. I tried to stop him, but all he did was strip me of my powers until I was barely alive. I was forced to seek refuge in you, outside of myself. All I could do was watch as he took you over, filling your thoughts with what he desired. Anger, Pain, Violence, everything he craved, he forced you to feel and cause. Eventually though, I got strong enough to open your eyes."

They had moved on to an image of him in the clock tower, of when he had stripped himself of Venom.

"After you had forced my son out of your mind and body, I was weak. All I could do was draw strength from you, and hope your other didn't realize I was there."

"My other?" She nodded, and walked down yet another hall. They reached an open cavern, and she gestured with a hand for him to look up. Peter felt his jaw drop. He could see a large cocoon of webbing secured to the ceiling, just barely visible in the shadows. It appeared to be at least fifty feet long, and almost as wide in the middle. As he stared, he noticed the webbing was almost black, and that whatever was covered, was still alive. It appeared to struggle, but unable to break its bindings. He brought his eyes down to the woman, who stood with her hands together, as if she suddenly felt shy.

"Peter Parker, I give you, your Other." The cocoon shuddered then, and it slammed itself against the ceiling, causing the entire room to shake.

"What is it?"

"When I first appeared with my son, we stuck to the shadows. It was constantly roaming, giving itself free reign of your mind. It didn't seem to want to control you, but was more concerned on giving you power. When you became that monster, that was because of him. He was content to just keep giving you power, regardless of what you became. He wanted you to be powerful, and he was going to get his way no matter what. But when He found out I was here, and my game plan for you, He became obsessed with destroying me."

"I already told you that I was weak, and with him roaming around, I was constantly forced to hide from him. But eventually, I got strong enough to bring him down. We eventually came to an understanding that I was going to be in charge. Sadly though, he didn't like that idea, so I.." She trailed off then, and again waved her hand to the ceiling.

"So, what is he then?"

"Near as I can tell, he has been here since you got your gifts. He calls himself "The Spider", but I have no idea what that means. All I know is that he wanted to kill me, and that he was more than happy to destroy your humanity. The only reason he is still alive is because I wasn't sure what would happen to you if I destroyed him." Peter nodded, again staring at the bundle secured above them.

"Okay, we have established what you are, what that is, but not why you are here. So far, you have basically admitted to me that you are a symbiote, and that you are responsible for countless people dying over time. So explain to me again why I shouldn't be worried that you are floating around inside my head?" Peter watched as she gave a huff, and threw her hair back in a way that was much too close to Felicia.

"I am here because I couldn't have left even if I wanted to. When you forced my son out of your body, he took everything I had with him. I was barely alive, barely a thought inside your mind. It took me months to just get enough strength to explore your mind. When my mother found you, I thought that she would take me back. I thought that she would realize what had happened, and free me from you. But then I realized that she couldn't even sense me inside you. I wasn't disappointed though. In my mind, that meant a chance at a new beginning."

"I had a chance to truly do what I was meant to do. I could help you become all that you were meant to be. The ultimate hero. When my mother sent you hopping through dimensions, why do you think you didn't trust your copy with the extra arms. I knew what he would become, and was giving you a heads up about him. That was a you that didn't have me as an influence. His mutation continued until it consumed him completely. In his world, he is feared and hunted down. When he finally dies, it will be a blessing for him. But, back to you.

"I have been with you, guiding you along your path quietly. I would spend most of my time among your thoughts, around what you wanted and trying to help you get your desires. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"But I was happy, with Mary Jane."

"True, but eventually, she started to get to you. You knew that she wasn't making you happy anymore, and before you deny it, remember that I live inside your head. Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, you have one dirty mind when it comes to Felicia."

Peter felt himself blush, and turned away from the woman in front of him. "I have no idea what your talking about."

"Please," she gave a laugh, and again, he was reminded of Felicia. "I hung out for over a year with your Id, I knew exactly what and who you wanted." She looked directly at him, and he would swear those eyes were smirking. "Incidentally, you should let him out more often, I could barely walk after what he did to me the first time I ran into him."

"Enough! I don't need to know what happened. But do you have to keep acting like Felicia? Even you have to admit, it is a little creepy." She nodded, and watched as her stance relaxed and her crossed arms fell to her sides. Thinking about what she said, Peter's mind stopped, suddenly a question surfaced.

"So, was it you that made me want to stop being with MJ?"

"I did nothing that a little introspection wouldn't have done. You spent your whole life chasing that redhead, and when you finally got her, you found it to be lacking. But you are a good man, and even though you weren't completely happy, you were willing to stick it out. All I did was just give you a little push in the direction to what you really wanted."

"What about what happened with me and Felicia?"

"You mean that little love bite?" He nodded, and she laughed. "Well, like I said, you don't let your Id out enough. I just pushed you until you let him out to play. He always did want Felicia for his own. By you putting your mark on her, it simply let his know that he had accomplished something. Now, any man who looks at her when you're around knows that she is yours. Besides, she got you just as good as you got her."

Peter barked out a laugh. "Okay, so, you were just helping me, but why have I been so, 'tough', on people lately? Normally, if I would have done anything like I have in the past few weeks, I would be in a bottle trying to figure out if I should really keep doing this. And yet, I haven't lost any sleep over it, and I have actually found myself enjoying what I have done. Why?"

"I have just helped you realize what needed to be done. I showed you that sometimes you have to step across that line and do what has to be done. And anyway, has anything bad really happened? Crime has gone down, and the woman you care about is safe. Sure, one man is dead, probably two, but is the world really hurting since they're gone?"

"I guess no-, wait, two?"

"You threw Bulls Eye back to his boss, broken and defeated. In all the time times you have faced him, have you ever known Wilson Fisk to forgive failure, especially when it involves you?"

"I suppose not."

"Exactly, and besides, I can even do for you what big and ugly up there can't."

"Excuse me?" She turned to face him. He watched as her eyes widened, and she shook her head, almost in pity.

"You mean besides the fact that I helped you pull a five foot piece of rebar out of your head. I don't really know. Like I said before, when you forced my son from you, all that was left of me was a thought. I had to bond myself to you completely, and I have never truly done something like that before. That has made me a part of you, and what that means, I do not know. All I know is that we'll find out more in time."

"Are you saying that you didn't know if you could save me?"

"All that matters is that you're alive." Peter was reeling. It was bad enough that she was saying that she was a part of him, but now she was saying that she didn't even know if she could have saved him when she did. Watching her though, his mind drifted back to the woman he cared most about.

"Should I tell Felicia about," he waved his arms from her to the Other and the area around them. "You?"

"That is up to you. I think she is open enough to accept this, but don't be surprised if she is a little distant. I mean, how would you feel if someone told you they have a several thousand year old thing living inside their head?" Peter fell to his knees, staring into nothing. He knew that she was right. Felicia could tolerate a lot, but even he knew that she had her limits.

He felt Alpha then at his side, her hand on his shoulder in an almost soothing manner. "You'll do what you think is right. Just think on it." She rose then and began to walk away. "Just remember, whatever you do, I'll always be here to talk to."

* * *

><p>Peter felt himself suddenly back in his bed with Felicia, and pulled her tight against him. He knew that she should know, if only a little bit of it. She had to know that what happened tonight may be a repeat event. He could die, and come back again. She had to know that he might be changing, and that she shouldn't be worried, that he would be able to handle it.<p>

Felicia woke to Peter pulling her closer to him, and it made her smile. Sure, in public he acted the nerd, uncomfortable around women, and quiet. But the moment they were alone, or in his 'working clothes', he turned into a different man. He became smooth and a womanizer. The kind of man that could make a woman want to chase him all around town, which she had done several times already. She still remembered when he had found her, how he had taken the initiative, and brought her to her knees. It was nice, and she would be lying if she said it wasn't unwelcome. The man beside her fought with everything, and was willing to give everything.

But she couldn't shake off what had happened just a few hours ago. She knew that he was dead on that roof, that was without question. Even if he wasn't stabbed through his head, the amount of blood on the roof would have meant that he had nothing left in his body. When she saw him pull the blades and debris from him, he had only looked at it a moment as if in surprise before he rose, going for Bulls Eye. Still though, she had enjoyed watching him carry the killer off, broken and babbling, to his boss to deliver his 'message'.

She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed, letting him know she was there. They would have to talk about this. _In the morning,_ she decided. _In the morning we are gonna talk, and he _will_ answer._

* * *

><p>Alpha was, for the first time in countless centuries, was unsure of herself. She had told Peter everything, where she had come from, where the symbiotes came from, everything. And yet, she had sensed his uneasiness. He was worried that she was lying to him. That she had held something back. She knew that over time, he would know that she had told him the truth. It would only be a little while longer until her being in his mind would feel like the most natural thing in the world. That he would seek her out for answers to questions, and just for some one to talk to. Now though, she needed to work off some stress.<p>

She journeyed to the very back of his mind. She knew he would be there, he always was. He reminded her a little of Peter's boss, a man trapped in the glory days. With that attitude, combined with the egotistical mindset only a creature like him has, it only made sense that he acted the way he did. Still though, she enjoyed being able to, at least, make him happy for a few hours.

When she arrived, she was surrounded by black webbing, it was his way of marking his territory. She felt slightly bad at lying to Peter at how she had beaten the Other. Without his help, the creature would have destroyed her within seconds of her arrival. But he had hidden her away with him. The creature refused to wander this far. It held no power here, the man would have destroyed it the second it had set one claw here. So, she felt that she owed him something in return for protecting her.

She smiled as she noticed movement along the walls. This was one of his favorite games to play. Let her know that he knew she was there without actually letting her see him. She merely smiled and kept walking, tapping more into what he liked. She let her chest swell and her hips fill out, she had toned it down for Peter, but grew back here. He enjoyed her like this, and she enjoyed his attention. She was a woman after all.

She heard him land hard on the ground behind her and smiled widely. She turned to face him, and the smile turned to a grin. Like she had said before, Peter's Id was egotistical, and lived on power. So it was natural that he associated himself with power. He wore the suit her son had created for Peter. Jet black with lines of white, standing out over hard muscle that made her hands itch. "How have you been lover?"

He laughed then, a cackle that echoed throughout the room. The mask crawled back and revealed eyes wide with expectation. "Its been way too long Alpha," she smiled as he actually strutted over to her. He gave off an aloof air, and it always made her smile. He enjoyed power, and she was power incarnate. It was only natural that he had protected her when she first arrived. He had known what she was capable of, and he wanted to have her. On top of that, she was a warm, willing body to him. The thing that could scratch his constant itch.

"Yes it has lover," she always enjoyed the growl that he made whenever she called him lover. It was always a game. Who would be the winner, that was the interesting part. Sometimes her would win, other time, she would. She just needed to get some relief, so she wanted the game to start now. "I told him everything." His smile faltered for only a second before it was back.

"Even about little old me?" He raised a hand to his chest, and softened his eyes, trying to appear innocent, even though he was anything but. She knew what he wanted to hear, but she wouldn't give it to him just yet.

"Even you," she turned to walk away from him, and felt his anger seethe. He always hated it when she turned away from him. It made the game more fun when he was angry, he would try so much more harder to get her to bend to him. It was so much more relieving for both of them.

"Where do you think you're going Alpha?" She heard his voice in her ear, and had to suppress the groan. He was hard already, and even though he wouldn't admit it. He would be crushed if she left.

"Just getting the game started." She turned to face him, and smiled as the mask crawled back over his face.

"I'll count to ten this time," he stepped back, and laughed. "But when I catch you, know that you'll be crawling away from here after I'm done with you." She laughed and waked away slowly then. Enjoying listening to him count out in a sing-song voice. She wasn't really in the mood to run tonight. She needed something to relieve the tension, and Peter's ego was going to take care of that just fine.

* * *

><p><em>Again, sorry about not getting the updates posted sooner. Like I said, this story is almost over, maybe two chapters left. After that, I will be working on some other stories, and want to know if you all want to read a sequel to 'Starting Over'. As always, reviews are welcome. Til the next posting.<em>

_Take It Easy,_

_-N_


	9. Waiting

Waiting

* * *

><p>Sorry for the extremely long time that I hadn't made any type of posting. I have been suffering from an obscene case of writer's block, and have been trying to muscle my way through it. Like I said before, I will be finishing soon, possibly in the next two postings. The problem is that I have the final chapter already finished, and I'm trying to write my way towards it.<p>

So, without further ramblings enjoy.

-N

* * *

><p>Waiting. That horrid practice that no one is ever excused from. Whether it be seconds, or even years, every single person despises it. Frankly, Peter was sick of it. He was waiting patiently enough, he thought. He had been standing outside of her patio door for, he raised his wrist, two hours now, and still no sign of her. When they had woken after the incident with Bulls Eye, he just wanted to get out and clear him head. He had no desire to talk right then and there. He wasn't even sure what to make of it, so how was going to explain what happened to another person? Felicia understood that, although he could see she was somewhat upset with him. However she agreed, but she had insisted that they meet later, after dark. He had planned on just walking over like he had the handful of times she invited him, but she had specified his using the "back door". Frankly, she had seemed kind of tense that morning so he had listened to her.<p>

When he had arrived at the bugle, everyone was buzzing about the body that was found in a sewer drain just outside of Manhattan. The police had known who he was, the marks on his body were so unique that anyone could tell who he was. They had simply assumed that Bulls Eye, the great hired killer, had been defeated by a family member of one of his victims. It was believable enough, he supposed. The man had killed hundreds, so it made since that thousands would have wanted to be the one to end his life. But Peter knew what had happened. Fisk had killed the man, and had his body dumped somewhere. Most definitely after all proof that he had killed him was scrubbed from the body.

So, after the morning had crawled by, he found himself sitting up on her balcony, waiting on that increasingly infuriating woman. He stared through the darkened glass, and could see that the damage Swarm had caused was already removed and repaired. New furniture and rugs replaced the broken and stained, all in all, it looked like nothing had even occurred there. Peter remembered Felicia telling him something vaguely along the lines of having the room repaired while they were gone. How the company that she had used was very professional, and more importantly, very private. That the people were very discreet and wouldn't ask any questions, just do the job and collect their money.

He looked up at the sky as he felt the wind start to pick up and heard the first loud boom of the night. "Great." He looked to the east, and saw the sky flash white and turned back to the door, hoping to see a shadow move, or a light to spark on and show him that she had arrived. Another thunder strike echoed through the city, and turning, he saw a bolt of lightning arc across the sky. Again the heavens rumbled, and he sadly realized that it was much closer than before. "Another minute, and she won't want to let me in." As if taking cue from his words, the sky spilt open like a wound. Peter pulled himself closer to the glass, trying to escape the water that was now pouring down, pelting him with help from the wind.

Growling and recognizing defeat, Peter stepped back, and rapped his knuckles against the glass, silently begging that a certain female would answer. Realizing the gesture was pointless, he looked to the sky and prayed that some God would have at least a little pity on him. "Where the hell is she?"

A feminine laugh filled his ears, and he turned, only to see no one. His momentary confusion seemed to only increase the pleasure of the one who was laughing. Alpha. The creature that was floating around inside his head. The voice that, in most cases was a blessing, was quickly becoming an annoying curse. Like the little sister he was thankful he never had. "Ya know, you are enjoying this way too much."

_Yes, I am_. He turned again to the glass, and the scene remained unchanged. No light. No movement. No Felicia. _Relax. She is probably just making you wait on purpose. She most likely just wants to see you angry, worried, concerned, and most importantly, waiting for her_. He thought about what Alpha said. True, Felicia always did enjoy seeing him squirm, and with the way the weather was currently behaving, it wasn't taking much to make him twitch.

"Are you sure that she isn't just angry about me running off this morning?" Another laugh filled his head, and was slowly giving him a migraine.

_I am quite sure she _is _angry with you. But, Felicia still cares about you. This is just her way of venting at you. You said she wanted to talk about what had happened, and you told her that you would in the morning. Morning came and you didn't. She is just making you suffer the way you made her suffer_.

"How did _I _make _her_ suffer?"

_By making her _wait.

"Okay, you have a point, but-," Peter turned away from the glass, to better vent his frustrations on the voice that wasn't there. It was bad enough when he was talking to her and staring at his reflection. He already felt crazy enough talking to a voice in his head. He didn't need to stare at his face while he did. However, if he had simply continued to stare into the glass. He wouldn't have missed the pair of green eyes staring at him.

* * *

><p>Felicia had been home hours before Peter had even thought about planning on arriving. She had cancelled her meetings with the Hardy foundation, and had completely brushed off her friends when they had invited her out to lunch. She wanted answers, and she was damn well planning on getting them. When he had arrived, she was planning on simply making him stand out in the rain and soak. It was petty, but she was angry at him. He had agreed that they would talk in the morning, and he just brushed her off, hoping to put it off. But Felicia knew that, like tearing off a bandage, it was better to get it over quickly than taking her time.<p>

She had watched him wait patiently, and had to resist the urge to giggle as he pulled himself closer to the door to try and avoid the rain. But then he had started talking to himself. She didn't think nothing of it right away. Sometimes talking to yourself is the only way a person can get an intelligent response. But then he started to have a real conversation. He would speak, and as if he got the answer, would respond in kind. But that wasn't what bothered her.

She kept hearing him mutter in his sleep, like he was speaking with someone. At first, she thought it was just dreams about his uncle. He told her that he sometimes had those, and she could only image how hard that would be. But then the mutters would stop, and he would pull her close and speak to the darkness. It was obvious, this wasn't just some random thought. He was actually talking to someone.

She approached the glass, and quietly slid it open, approaching him from behind. She had no ill intent, she just wanted to figure out what he was talking about. "I know she is just a little moody, but still, why does she have to keep me waiting?" He turned then, and she gave him a smile, watching as realization dawned on him. Granted it was hard to tell, but soon she had learned to see his face behind the mask. The fabric had pulled tighter, and the chords in his neck had tightened. He realized that he was caught, and there was no where to go.

"Who were you talking to Peter?" She watched him stare at her, and she knew she wasn't at her best. The rain pouring down was making her look comical. Her makeup running, her hair glued to her head, and her white blouse with matching slacks, now that she thought about it, probably wasn't the best choice. She turned and motioned for him to follow, stopping just inside the door. She turned to him, and watched as Peter peeled the mask from his face, shaking the water from his hair. She did giggle then, and she noticed that he relaxed some, almost calm again with her. "Wait here." She walked away towards her bedroom and changed, coming back sporting a plain white t-shirt and black jeans, her colors. Wordlessly, she had brought a towel with her, and placed it over the leather couch. "Sit." It was a command he obeyed, and she moved to stand in front of him. He recognized the stance, it was one she often took right before she bashed some random thug's head through a wall.

"I want you to know that I'm not mad at you, but I am disappointed." He opened his mouth to speak, and she raised her hand to stop him. "I know Peter Parker, that you are keeping secrets from me. And I want to know them. I have heard you talking to yourself, and while I recognize that we have to be a little crazy to do what we do, its getting a little out of hand. I can only tolerate so much. I watched you die, and come back to life. Now you're holding full conversations with yourself."

"We were supposed to talk about what happened this morning, but you ran off, and I tolerated it. But you only have one chance now to clear the air between us, or we are done. Like I said, I am not angry at you, but I can tolerate only so much." She sat down and reclined back into a leather chair opposite of him, crossed her legs, and pointed at him with her bare foot. "Your choice, start explaining, or get out."

* * *

><p><em>She's got you over a barrel Peter. Man up and tell her<em>. He was surprised that his spider sense didn't tell him that she was sneaking up behind him. Granted, she was no threat, but still, he should have felt even a tug from his mind that someone was behind him. He was almost arguing with Alpha when she had gotten the drop on him. Peter had turned and found her standing there in the rain, her hair drenched and pasted to her skull with mascara running down her face. True, her words had shocked him, but he was surprised at how soaked and, more importantly, transparent, her clothes had gotten. Like a dog, he had followed her, staying when she told him to, sitting when she said so, and now, he was facing an ultimatum. Spill his guts, or get out and never see her again. _Tell her, you know you don't want her gone._

Taking a deep breath, Peter gazed over at Felicia, he could tell by how her head was cocked to the side that she knew he was thinking, and her eyes were praying that he made the right choice. "Felicia, you know how they introspection is good for the soul?" She nodded and he continued. "Well, I did a little soul searching and…" He spilled his guts, even when his own conscience told him to skip parts or just flat out lie. Peter felt, and with Alpha's constant assurances, that she needed to know everything.

When he finished, Peter looked into her eyes, and saw that they were blank. Glazed over. "Felicia?" She didn't move, did say anything, she just continued to stare ahead. "Felicia?" He was more insistent, and still, she didn't answer him. 'Is she okay?' He heard a huff of exasperation, and knew it was directed at his question. _Give her a touch, she might just still be figuring this all out. When I told you to tell her, I figured you would be more humorous, more gentle. Not laying it out like a science presentation. _Taking the hint, Peter reached out and grasped her hand. The contact seemed to snap her out of the trance, and Felicia turned and gave him a tired smile.

"Your life just _can't _be simple, can it?" He laughed then. If she was able to joke around about it, it can't mean that he is in _that_ much trouble.

"If it was, would you want to be with me?" She rose then, and ignoring the clammy feel of his suit, sat down in his lap.

"So, you have a woman crawling around in your head?"

"That's my story, and I'm sticking to it."

"Well," she started pulling at his shirt, and obligingly, allowed her to pull it off. "That explains a few things." Peter was to engrossed in her as she pulled her shirt off like it was burning that he missed the statement.

"Sorry?" Laughing, she pulled him close.

"Lets just say, it makes sense how you knew my body, and why you like to cuddle." Standing up, she quickly peeled down her jeans and motioned with her head her bedroom. "What do you say we break in my new bed?" To say that Peter was surprised by the way she was acting, would have been a misunderstanding. He expected coldness, for her to tell him he's crazy and to get out, something, just not this. But for once, he truly couldn't think anymore, about the conversation, the ever incessant voice echoing around in his skull, about anything. He just grinned as he dove off the couch and towards the doorway.

* * *

><p>"Explain to me again, <em>sweet<em> husband of mine, why you insisted on going there alone?" Peter calmly reached for the radio that hung from his belt as he climbed the side of the Fisk building. A lonely black shadow on an otherwise spotless white building. As he grasped the object, his eyes never left the grate that was still ahead of him. When he had arrived, it seemed like choosing the one that was thirty stories up, in the middle of the building, was a good idea. Now, getting tired of the climb, he wasn't so sure.

"Because _darling _wife, I am only doing surveillance. No taking, no confrontations, just looking." Peter chuckled as he released the key for her to respond. After having some of the best sex in a while, they were both feeling good. It didn't even bother him that the Bugle thought they were married. It just made the whole situation they were in a little more light-hearted. It gave them something to laugh at.

"Fine, but when you're done, please come see me." Peter didn't missing the silent hint. She only said 'please' out of habit. He was expected to stop by when he finished up at the tower. And he knew there would be hell to pay if he didn't.

"Sounds good, going silent." He turned off the radio without waiting for her reply. He was getting tired, and the sooner he finished up here, the sooner he would be able to swing by her place. When he reached the grate, it pulled loose easily. Smiling, he starting to crawl through the vent, until he realized it was darker than hell and he couldn't see. "I don't suppose you could fix this?" Silence greeted him, but he felt a burning sting behind his eyes. After trying to rub the sensation away and somewhat succeeding, he discovered the tunnel, which had been completely covered in shadow, now seemed to glow with light. "Didn't know you could do that." He heard her laugh, and smiled. _That's okay, neither did I. _Peter faltered for only a moment, but kept going, he wanted to get this done, tonight.

As he laid in Felicia's bed, Peter figured that this game between him and Fisk had gone on long enough. He wanted him gone, but he knew prison wouldn't do it. He knew the fat man would walk, or most likely waddle, out of the prison on some minor complication before they had even gotten him fingerprinted. He needed hard proof to keep him there, and for someone to put him down like the dog he was. He wouldn't kill the man himself. The last thing he needed was for someone to suspect that Spider Man had anything to do with him. If he did, Fisk would die the billionaire philanthropist who was killed by an insane man in a mask. 'No,' he started to crawl up, and leveled out when he reached the top floors vents. "He needs to die as a killer and an animal."

* * *

><p>As he crawled, Peter suddenly found his path blocked. It wasn't a fan blade, those were simple enough to get around. This was something new. It was as big as a shoebox he figured, with a thin, tight wire going from it across the vent, effectively blocking the path. He thought about just brushing it aside, but stopped. As he focused more on the object than his goals, he could make out the faint raised writing, 'point towards enemy'. "Perfect," he rested his head in his hands. "A claymore."<p>

Moving slowly, he grasped the object, and carefully reached into the back carried. Slowly, he brought it to his face, and after sorting through it, found what he was looking for, a small probe, its end scorched. Gently, he placed the probe's end into the junction where the wire entered the device. Pushing it down, he raised his hand, and grasped the wire that blocked the path. "Here's where I say something memorable." He jerked the wire free and shut his eyes, but no explosion came. Opening them slowly, he saw that the device remained unchanged, and the wire hung limp in his hand. A short blast of webbing kept the pressure on the device, and he crawled forward again. "That wasn't so…" As Peter rounded the corner, he saw what seemed like hundreds of wires blocking his destination at the end. "Hard?" He groaned and proceeded closer to the first. _You didn't think it was going to be easy, did you?_ "Just shut up."

After what felt like hours of crawling and disarming, Peter found himself sitting in front of the main vent to Fisk's office. When he approached the opening, he started clawing at his eyes, the light blinding him was so intense it was painful. As he fought the urge to scream, he felt the light and pain receding, followed by a whispered apology. _Sorry, wasn't paying attention._ As his vision cleared, he could see from his position, the man staring down into a computer, enormous hands moving swiftly over the keys. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to take him, but he felt himself calming. _Peter enough, you make a move, and he'll beef up security even more. You thought it was hard getting in here before? Can you imagine if he decided to change it?_

Realizing she was right, he pulled the pack he carried closer, and after sorting through the contents, dragged out a small camera. Angling it, he pulled a small side screen free, and after examining it, tilted the lens until he was satisfied. Next, he took a small microphone free, and carefully placed it against the grating of the vent. He took the utmost care to make sure that it wasn't past the opening. The last thing he wanted was for someone to even look up here. Finished, he looked around the vent, and with relief, saw that it was filled with cob-webs, that now covered him. _See, they don't even open these things to clean in here. _His eyes fell to the man sitting down below him. _He will never know anything was up here. _

Finished, Peter started his crawl back to the outside, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Collecting evidence that could be used against the man. Even if he got anything incriminating, how long would it keep him locked away. Hell, who would even want to talk the risk. If anyone really believes that Wilson Fisk is the legendary king of organized crime, who would be brave enough to tell others. True, he knew one person who would be, but who listen to him, of all people? But recently, people are starting to notice what he had been saying, that he may have a point.

* * *

><p>When he exited the building, Peter reclined against its surface, and pulled a small laptop free. After pressing the proper keys, he found himself viewing Fisk through the camera, the sound coming through clearly. The man had left the desk, and was walking around, talking to someone he couldn't see. "Now, Mr. Keys, I understand you have a large amount of QNB<strong>(1)<strong> you wish to move through my city, correct?"

"Yes sir, Mr. King Pin. My guys have a warehouse worth of the stuff. We just need to keep it here for a few weeks, a month at the most. I have a few friends in Libya that are _very _interested in acquiring it. I was hoping we could come to an arrangement."

"Keys, we both know how dangerous that is. I am afraid that I am going to have to charge you twice your current rate."

"Excuse me?"

"QNB is at the very least, a dangerous hallucinogenic drug. What were to happen if someone were to discover you wares and then contact the police, who would most definitely realize that I own the building and then tie you to me? I simply cannot take that risk if I am not amply rewarded for taking such an endeavor."

"But-."

"Keys have you been exposed to that toxin, that you are now having trouble comprehending me? Either pay, or I can simply have you removed, and simply sell the QNB myself. Your choice, although, I strongly suggest you just do what I ask, considering you already have a buyer lined up." Peter heard the groan, and then saw the man. Alex Keys, the guy looked more like a librarian that someone who sold chemical weapons. A thin balding man who stood at the most five foot four. He was always seen wearing the same thing, black suit slacks, and a grey shirt with a white vest. Peter had seen photos of him plastered around the bugle. People have gone after him, and their families only see parts of them afterwards.

"Fine, that is just fine Mr. King Pin. I will need two weeks though to move it out of the city."

"Very well, as always, it has been a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Keys. Can I interest you in a brandy?"

Peter closed the lap top, and after securing it, dove off of the building. 'Two weeks?' If that toxin got out of the city, thousands could die from what their minds would make them see. He had wanted to wait weeks, maybe even a month to bring down Fisk, but this couldn't wait. He had just accepted blood money, and people were in danger. Hell, the city was in danger as long as that stuff was here. He remembered his college class, when Professor Connor showed them what the gas did to a rabbit. How it had thrashed and screamed inside its enclosure. Like it was being attacked and trying to escape a creature that had been thrown into the container with it. He shuddered to even imagine what a city of people would do if they were exposed to it. This was it, this was the third strike he was waiting for. "You're going down Fisk, and this time, you will stay down."

_Not yet he's not. _He nodded into his swing, angling his way to the Plaza district. "You're right. But I'll take care of that when I confront him. I need him to start talking, and that's how I'll get him. His ego will be the end of him, not me."

* * *

><p>When Peter crashed onto Felicia's patio, she laughed openly at him. She knew what kind of landing that was. It wasn't the, 'I'm half-dead, bring the pain killers' it was the, 'you are not going to believe what I just heard' landing. He pulled himself up with the help of her railing, and wordlessly, thanked her when she stepped under his arm. Half carrying him, she helped him into her living room, and when he hit the couch, Peter pulled his mask off and shook his head. "He's insane Felicia," she just nodded and walked away, coming back with two beers. Popping the top, she passed one to him and watched him down the bottle instantly, placing the empty one down and gesturing for the other.<p>

"Take it easy Peter, people might think you have a problem." He pulled the bottle away, and frowned at her.

"He's letting people bring weapons here."

"What's new," he shook his head.

"These aren't guns Felicia. They're chemical weapons. Things that could wipe out an entire city. I only have two weeks, then they're gone. I have to hit him now." She nodded. Felicia had a feeling that this would happen. That Peter would see something that he couldn't look away from. Granted, this was serious. But still though, she thought that he wanted to wait, to make him squirm before taking the man down. 'Looks like that plan just went out the window.'

"When do we hit him?" He spit out the beer he had been drinking, and looked to her, and the now ruined carpet.

"_We _aren't doing anything. I am hitting him in two days. I'll need a day to prep and then I finish this." He heard her growl, but didn't stop. She needed to do this one thing for him. "Felicia I'm serious, this is going to be the biggest battle I've ever had. I need you here to finish this if I don't come back." _Correction, you need her safe._ He pulled the lap top free and passed it to her. "If I don't come back two days from now, get that to Jameson. He will know what to do and finish Fisk off for good." He saw her eyes flash for a second, and quickly tried to repair the damage. "I'm planning on coming back, but you know us nerds. We gotta have a plan for everything."

She nodded and took the computer to her room, closing the door and allowing a single tear to fall. She promised herself that she wouldn't ever cry over a man, but he is making that damn difficult. She jumped when he wrapped his arms around her. "Felicia, I need you to promise me that you'll get this to Jonah if I don't come back." She nodded into his arms, but that wasn't enough. "Felicia, I need you to say it."

"I promise." He walked around her, and smiled before pulling his mask on and walking out of her room. "Be careful." She heard him yell as he exited her home.

"Aren't I always?" She didn't respond, knowing he would already be gone. Going to her bed, she laid down and turned to stare at the clock, realizing there was only one thing she could do now. Wait.

* * *

><p>Authors Note:<p>

:3-quinuclidinyl benzilate

Sorry again for the late update. Also, just a heads up to my readers. I have seen that you are concerned about me finishing this. I just want to say that when I am finishing this up, I mean that I am finishing with this particular part of the story. A sequel will be coming out. Expect the final chapter in the next two weeks or earlier.

Also, a shout out to one of my readers, Kilowatt the Warlock, and I ask that you read some of the work on his community, K.I.C.K.A.S.S.(Kilowatt's Inventory of Comics Known for Advanced Substance and Style)

Take it Easy,

-N


	10. Showdown

Showdown

I would like to thank you all for waiting patiently for this next update. Let's just say that the only thing predictable about life is that it is unpredictable. There will only be one more update, and then _Starting Over_ will be finished. Like I have said before, I am always taking requests for what my readers want to see. So, enough ramblings and enjoy. Take it Easy, -N.

* * *

><p>The darkness was soothing. It was protecting, all encompassing, quiet and loud, all at the same time. It gave him peace, and let him focus. All that had happened up to this moment, every sensation, every word, his life now lay out before him to examine it. Before he had begun this, 'crusade', he had never really taken a life, at least not intentionally. Now though, he had killed, marked, and tormented those who stood against him. He had even died and come back to life with only scars to show for it.<p>

The shadows seemed to move, and he knew she was there, she was always there. The darkness was a part of him now, it only made since that nothing could hide from him in it. She didn't speak, and he was grateful. She knew what he was doing; how he had isolated himself the entire day, and now, night.

* * *

><p>Peter had originally planned on just calling the Bugle, telling them that he was feeling under the weather and that he wouldn't come in. But that didn't feel right. The people there were as much a part of his family as his Aunt. He deserved to see them for what might be the last time. When he entered, he went straight for Jonah's office. He didn't acknowledge anyone who shouted his name. At the moment, there was only one person who he wanted, no, needed to see.<p>

Jonah was talking with Robbie when he came in. He gave the man a nod, and turned to his boss. "Jameson, a word." If he was surprised when Peter made a demand, he didn't show it. He only motioned for the other person to leave, and when the door slammed shut, he raised a hand to the seat in front of his desk.

"What do you want Parker?" He was surprised at how cold the boy was acting. Even when the kid was in a piss-poor mood, he showed the emotion. Now though, it was like looking at a pile of bricks. No emotion, just sitting and waiting for something to happen.

"Something big is going to happen tonight." He barked out a laugh at what the kid said.

"Parker this is New York. Something 'big' happens 'every' night."

"This is something else altogether." When Peter slammed his fist into the desk, causing the cigar in the ashtray to hit the floor, he raised a single eyebrow. He didn't keep the growl out of his voice. Sure, he yelled at people, but he was seldom angry. Here was a person he had grown to somewhat respect, throwing a tantrum like a four year old.

"What is burning your ass boy?" He stooped to retrieve his smoke, only slightly appeased that it wasn't damaged when it hit the ground.

"This is something that could make 9/11 look like a Fourth of July parade." He was raising the smoke to his lips when he spoke. If the kid was willing to make that kind of comparison, then it had to be truly bad.

"What is it kid?" Peter knew he had to lie then. He had the man's attention, but needed to know how to tell him, without _actually_ telling him.

"It's Spider-Man Jonah," he heard the mumbled swear but continued. "He came to me the other night. He told me something was coming and that if he managed to stop it, that he would _truly _be saving this city. But he needs your help."

That time, Jameson let out the laugh. He knew it was petty, but he couldn't help it. He had seen that damned wall crawler save the city, along with the people who worked for him countless times, needs him. It was too damned funny! "Kid, I don't care how bad the trouble is, I'll die before I-."

"What if would've saved your wife and kid?" It was a low blow, he knew it, and Jameson knew it too. He needed the man to be on his side. Right now, the old goat needed to put his feuds with Spider-Man aside so that the city would get to see another sunrise.

"That was dirty boy."

"I know that you hate him sir. I know that you hate all people who run around in masks, but if you don't help him, hundreds if not thousands will die. So, I'll ask again, would you help him if it would've saved your family?"

"You know damn well that I would have." He dropped the tobacco into the ashtray, suddenly not wanting it. When he turned his chair to face the city, Peter noticed that his voice had gone from raw and emotional to gruff and business-like, as if he were trying to get control of the situation again. "So, what does the web head need me to do?"

Peter sighed and nodded to the man's back. He had essentially agreed, so now he just needed to pull this mission off, and he would be able to move on with his life. "He wants you to be here tonight. He said that he would be bringing you something that had to be made public immediately. He said that he could have gone to anyone, but that he wanted you to do it. Will you do that boss?"

"I suppose he expects me to just cancel all my plans at wait at my desk like some housewife hmm?" Peter laughed then, watching the man spin slowly around with a smirk. He nodded and rose, "I think that might have been what he was hoping for, yeah." He walked out of the room, closing the door before Jonah could really begin to speak. The hard part was over, now he had to go home and call his aunt before he began his focus.

* * *

><p>He felt it was dark enough now, and solemnly, walked to his closet and began to dress. He pulled each part of his uniform on slowly, only stopping for a moment to adjust the ceramic plate that sat over his chest. He thought the pain was from the plate not settling, but after the adjustment, he knew it wasn't that. In the dark, he could hear his aunt's voice echo through his mind.<p>

* * *

><p>It was only a little after nine in the morning when he got back home and called her. While he waited, he counted the rings. On the third, he heard the voice on the end, and could help but smile when she answered. "Peter dear, how have you been?"<p>

"Fine Aunt May, I just wanted to let you know that I've been thinking of you." He listened to her coo on the other end of the phone and smiled. It was funny that even after all these years; he could make her believe that he was still normal.

"Are you sure dear? Normally you call me on Sundays."

"I'm fine, but," he was nervous now. Peter was almost certain that she knew about MJ by now. Still, if she didn't, she deserved to know. At the very least, she'll still want to send the girl a Christmas card. "Me and MJ, we-."

"I know dear, her mother told me a while ago." The line was silent for a moment then. "I am slightly disappointed that you didn't tell me sooner though."

"I know, but I just didn't want you to-."

"Worry? Peter, I am stronger than you give me credit. But, I know my Peter, and I just _know _that you'll have already met someone else, didn't you?" He could feel himself blushing. Aunt May was many things, subtle wasn't one of them.

"I did. She's really nice."

"Well, when do I get to meet her?"

"Soon Aunt May, soon."

"Well good," she pulled away from the phone then, and he could hear a distinctive voice in the background. He heard her laugh, and couldn't help but grin a little himself. If she was happy, why shouldn't he be? "Peter, I have to go now." She was whispering then. "I have a date."

"When do _I_ get to meet him?" He couldn't resist turning the table, but knew she wouldn't take the bait.

"As soon as I meet your mystery girl." The voice was speaking again, and he heard a gentle slap followed by his aunt's laugh. "Call me again Sunday Peter."

_If I'm still here. _"Sure, Good-Bye Aunt May. I love you."

"I love you too Peter."

* * *

><p>He finished dressing at that point, and walked to the window. Opening it, he stared up at the sky, mesmerized by the stars. Then, he flew back onto his floor, crushed by a familiar body. He hadn't smelled her coming up the side of the building. But as she lay down on top of him, he was bathed in her scent. It was a comforting thing, but he didn't want her there, he couldn't have her there, not now. "Felicia, I thought I said that I wanted you to wait back at your place for me."<p>

She laughed then, and he absorbed the sound she made. He could only describe it as being throaty with the barest hint of a ring, basically, unique and wholly her. As he felt her recline against him, he had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around her. He looked into her eyes, and saw the worry that was there. As playful as she acted, he knew she didn't want him to go. "What can I say," she grinned then, and reached for his mask. "I'm a bad girl."

Peter gripped her hand, stilling its movement towards the bottom of his mask. "Felicia," it wasn't a warning. It was a request.

"Come on Spider, stay here with me." She rocked back off of him and onto her knees. "I'm much more fun, and I can think of things that you can do which will be much more 'enjoyable'." As she finished, she ran her hands over her body, and he had to fight the urge to stay.

He stood up then, shaking his head while lifting her up off the ground. "Felicia, I may have never played," he carried her over to his bed. "But_ never_ before the big game." He looked at her pout and forced himself to feel nothing. He had to pull this off, or he would never be able to relax again. If he let Fisk get away with this, it would be only a matter of time before he attacked again, and at that time, someone he cared about would die.

He looked at the bag she carried and tried to change the subject. "Did you bring my laptop?" She nodded, and after pulling it out, turned the screen to face him. He could see the fat man, and knew that it wasn't a loop. It was fresh footage that was still recording. Good. He gave her a single nod of his head. "Felicia," he turned away from her and walked to the window. "I will come back." He dove out the window and she turned to face the screen. _He better, _she thought.

"Or I'll kill him myself."

* * *

><p>When Peter reached the building, he immediately found the vent he had entered previously. Wordlessly, he felt Alpha adjust his sight. As he crawled upwards to the man's office, he was struck by how silent his journey, hell, how quiet his mind had been. 'Why are you being so quiet?' Peter heard her huff out a breath, and it surprised him that she sounded almost bored. <em>No reason, I've just resigned myself to my fate. <em>He stopped for a moment, and wanted to look around for her, wishing for her to actually appear beside him. 'Resigned, aren't we being a little melodramatic'. _Yes, resigned. You are going to fight this man, and the possibility that you are going to die is quite high. I feel that what this man has in mind for your body would be beyond my abilities to heal. I also have this feeling that when you die, then I am going to die, and _hopefully _stay dead. _'Aren't you just a bowl of sunshine?'

She didn't answer him and he wasn't expecting her to. She was okay with dying, and to an extent, so was he. He had said his goodbyes, and hopefully, he would be saying his hellos in a few hours at the most. When he reached his 'mine field', he was grateful that the explosives were still disarmed. As he approached the vent where the camera sat, he waved into the lens, hoping it would make the woman on the other end smile, maybe even laugh.

* * *

><p>As he pried the vent cover open, he grasped its edge and lowered it to the floor, thanking all the powers in the universe that it didn't make a sound when it touched the tiles. Next, he leapt to the far door, and was again grateful that he managed to land softly. With a small hiss of webbing, the camera was secured to the oak, and he proceeded to crawl down slowly, taking the time to seal the opening. <em>Thirty minutes starting now, move quickly Peter, the clock is ticking. <em>He didn't need her to tell him he was on a time frame now, but it still made him glad that even though she was okay with dying, she still wanted to stay alive.

Finished, he stood up and proceeded over to the desk, he listened then, and heard Mozart playing over some hidden speaker. As the symphony reached its crescendo, he was at the desk. He could see the man's eyes in the reflection of the repaired glass. Closed and content, it wouldn't surprise him if he was actually sleeping. Gently, he reached out, and grasped the phone that sat on the man's desk. With a quick jerk, the phone line snapped, and he sprung from the floor onto the wall. Raising his hand, he slammed his fist against the plaster, watching the man jump to his feet while he screamed, "Candy-Gram for Mongo. Candy-Gram for Mongo."

He watched as Fisk stood, chest heaving as he looked around for where the voice was echoing from. When his eyes settled on Peter, he had to resist the urge to wave. 'What the hell,' he raised his hand and waved, jumping from the doors to the windows over his desk. "How ya doing Mongo?"

He watched as Fisk raised his hand to his face and rubbed the mark there. It had healed nicely, Peter thought. It wasn't dark red, or a sickly gray color, just a lighter tone of normal skin. "What do you want here?" Peter rocked back onto his heels, and rubbed his chin. He was so tense; he just needed to have some fun before the shit really hit the fan.

"I told you that I would be back if you ever tried something against me again, you remember that right?" He watched as the man faced the windows over the city, and sneered.

"My dear boy," he noticed that Fisk's voice was calm, almost casual. "I correct me if I am mistaken, but I have only wronged you twice. True, I did contact an associate to, shall we say, 'meet' with Miss Hardy, and yes, I did request that Bulls-Eye attempt to end your miserable existence. But other than that, I have made no recent attempts on your life, other than those I have recently mentioned, obviously."

Peter quirked his head to the side, and again leapt, this time settling over the private bar. Looking down, he noticed a bottle, and with a blast of webbing, pulled it up to himself. "Ya know, you have a much better selection than I do." He dropped the bottle, and smiled when he saw the man's eyes narrow. "True, you haven't come after me a third time, but instead, you came after the city, and that well, _that_ I take personally." He watched as Fisk returned to his chair, and after a moment, he turned to face him.

"What wrong have I done against my city?"

"First of all, its _my _city, and secondly, I'm talking about a shipment of QNB, care to explain?" It pleased him slightly to watch something like shock pass through Fisk's face, if only for a moment.

"A man has to make money, that's all I do. I pay people to do things for me, and they pay me for my assistance to them." He stopped and looked up at Peter pensively. "Although lately, I feel that my finances are hemorrhaging where you are concerned."

"While we're on the topic, why do you send people after me? You're a big, strong, healthy, albeit overweight man, why haven't you _personally_ come after me? I mean come on Bulls-Eye, Doc Ock, The Chameleon, Scorpion, Mysterio, why pay all these guys instead of taking care of me yourself?"

He had half expected it, but was still surprised when the man let out a quiet chuckle. "My boy, I pay them because they are _dumb_ enough to believe they can beat you. When criminals slow down and activity lessens, and believe me, it does have its lulls, I find myself in need entertainment, so when they fight you, I enjoy watching you take them apart. True, if one of them were able to somehow defeat you, I would have been ecstatic, but when they fail, it gives me pleasure. I know that even when they are released, or more likely escape from custody, they will be back to try and fight you and I will have more entertainment"

"Dude, you're one sick puppy, you know that right?"

"My boy, as enjoyable as this banter has been, may I ask what you are doing here?" Peter slowly slid down the wall. As he approached the desk, he began to speak again.

"I want to know where the QNB is, and I want you in prison." Fisk placed his hands together, and leaned forward onto the desk.

"I will give you one of your demands. The QNB is at my storage facility at pier 41, dock number 8. The crates that contain it even list the bio-agent as 'vaccines'. As for your second request, I'm afraid that prison is quite unacceptable. You see," he rose and walked around the desk, until all three hundred pounds of him towered over Peter. "I find prison at the very least, uncouth. The clothing is uncomfortable, the living standards inadequate, and the food truly deplorable. So you see, simply I have no desire to go." As he spoke, Peter suddenly realized just how much smaller he was than the man before him, and maybe how he was just a little too cocky going in here. "Now, my boy, I feel that you are right. I should have come after you myself ages ago. Going after Miss Hardy, your 'woman' I presume, was ungentlemanly, and for that I apologize. Therefore I say we end this now," he turned his head to the side as Peter nodded to him. "What do you say to that?" His voice dropped from a low mumble to a deep growl.

"What are we waiting for?" Peter was already side-stepping the massive fist as it crashed into the marble desk, breaking off the corner as if it were ice. As the man's weight leaned over his arm, Peter struck. Each blow seemed to do nothing; it was like hitting solid stone. He watched as Fisk seemed to just stand still and take the abuse he was giving. He swung his fist one last time, feeling a small amount of triumph as the man's head tipped back with the force.

"My Boy," he felt a small amount of horror build as Fisk brought a hand to his face and rubbed the area he struck almost absentmindedly. "I case you have forgotten," he reached out with both arms, wrapping Peter and pulling him close and squeezing. "I told you before that only five percent of my body weight is fat; here is what 285 pounds of pure muscle is capable of." Peter tried to move, but there was nothing he could do. Every breath he released just caused the pressure to tighten around him. "You were beaten before you came here," he spoke closely now, as if he were telling him a secret. "When I finish with you, I will hunt down Miss Hardy, and will take great pleasure in the pain she will suffer. Now, die knowing that her suffering was utterly and completely your fault."

It was a last ditch effort, he knew. His only hope and he was wishing that he could get lucky enough to pull this off; a slim chance that it would throw the fat man off balance enough that he could get loose. Swinging his head back, Peter slammed it forward and laughed when he felt the cartilage in the man's face shatter. When the pressure eased, he pulled himself free, and slammed his hands into the sides of the man's head. Fisk was bellowing in pain now, but he knew he had to move fast. He grabbed the giant, and slammed him against the glass. After three hits, it broke, and forcing his bulk through the opening, Peter pressed the man's neck down against the jagged edge.

Abruptly, the noise stopped, and Fisk tried turning his face to look at him. "Do it boy, kill me." Peter pressed down, smiling as he watched a line of crimson form against the pale skin and run down the glass.

"No," he threw Fisk back, watching as he slid into the remains of the desk, slowly, he stood over him, and stared. "I'm not like you. As much as I want to kill you, I want you to die in prison, with everyone knowing what kind of monster you are." Fisk didn't see the boot as it crashed into the side of his face. When the body slumped against the floor, he waved to the camera, and ran to the wall. Quickly he grabbed the camera, and with a salute to the crumbled behemoth, dove through the vent and crawled to the exit.

* * *

><p>"I feel like singing, don't you?" Peter was rather hurt when Alpha didn't respond, but didn't let it get to him. If anything, she always needed to have the last word. When he reached his exit, Peter dove off the edge, heading back to his apartment, and what was sure to be an extremely angry slash excited woman. That was when she decided to voice her feelings about the encounter. <em>We got lucky, don't be stupid now. Also, don't forget, the plan is only a third done. <em>"Yes dear."

* * *

><p>Jonah Jameson still wasn't sure why he had agreed to what Parker had asked. He looked at his wrist, and with a groan saw that it was almost 3 am. He still couldn't figure out what the kid wanted him to do. All he knew was that he had agreed to have a meeting with a man he despised with every fiber of his being, and was now stuck waiting on said person. "If that guy doesn't get here soon, I'm firing your ass Parker." He was reaching for his zippo to light his burnt out smoke when he felt it. That feeling any person gets when something or someone is behind them. "Took you long enough Menace." He turned, and sure as shit, there he was. Dressed in Black and generally annoying, with his squeeze, no correction, his wife literally lounging against him. "Parker said you wanted me to help you, what is it and why me?" He watched as the man held out his hand, and wordlessly, he watched as Black Cat placed a lap top on his desk. He watched the woman, trying to remember where he had seen her when she spun the screen to face him, activating a video file in the process.<p>

When the file finished playing, Jameson had his head in his hands. He couldn't believe it, Wilson Fisk, the man who donated billions to charities a year, was also the most powerful crime boss in New York. He just couldn't process it, the man who he would play golf with, who grieved with him when his family had been murdered, was one of the most hated people in the country. That same man admitted to harboring chemical weapons and attacking innocent people simply because he could. And here was proof to lock him away for life. "What do you want me to do?"

"My husband," he watched as Black Cat seemed to stroke the Menace like he was fine art, something not living, just an object to be possessed. "He would be most grateful if you published this and notified the police of Mr. Fisk's actions."

"Okay." He watched the man, slightly bothered by the fact he was being so quiet. Every other time he was forced to confront Spider-Man, the guy was a talker. Now he was stone silent. "So, why is he being all hush hush?" Her answer was a giggle followed by wrapping herself around the man's arm. Disgusted, he turned back to the computer, replaying the video.

"You'll have to excuse him, I'm afraid he is a little hoarse. When he got back tonight, I was so excited and well," she looked around the room, as if afraid someone would hear their conversation. "He is a screamer."

When he turned to face her, he saw that they were both gone, and seemingly drawn back to the screen, he knew that there was only one thing he could do. Reaching for the phone, and his cigar, he took a long drag as the tone rang and someone answered. "Hello, Police, This is Jonathan Jonah Jameson and I would like to report a crime."

* * *

><p>After leaving the Bugle, Peter and Felicia moved quickly across town. Eventually they got to the harbor and Peter saw, with some satisfaction, that the police were already swarming the docks, searching for Fisk's building. That wasn't his target though. Off in the distance, he could make out the faint shape of the prison that held the baddest of the bad. When Fisk was captured, that was where they would send him.<p>

Shortly after arriving via a boat that Felicia insisted she had borrowed, they arrived. Peter allowed her to take the lead. This was her thing, breaking into buildings, but come to think of it, this had to be the first time someone had ever broken _into _a prison. He noticed that she seemed to giggle at the 'common systems' they had installed over the security system, until she led him to his goal.

The cell had been designed to hold him specifically, heavy duty electromagnets that were connected to two separate backup generators in case of a power failure. The metal arms fused to his back were pulled tight, keeping him perfectly centered in the room. He was unable to move unless someone wished for him to. Essentially, Dr. Otto Octavious, aka Dr. Octopus, was as harmless as a baby kitten. "Hey bright eyes."

He watched as Octavious raised his head, looking for where the sound had come from when he spoke again. "Don't speak, there's a camera right on you. Just listen; there is something that you might want to know. Rub your face if you're interested in me continuing." He held his breath, waiting, but soon the prisoner lifted his hand and ran it across his face. "Good, I wanted you to know that tonight, I confronted you pay-roller, Wilson Fisk. Deny it all you want, I know he pays you. But something very interested came up while we were talking, I thought you would want to hear."

When he pulled the DVR and hit play, he watched the man sitting before him. As the words echoed off the cell, the man seemed to be shaking with rage, and Peter couldn't help but grin. It made him smile when he thought about how all the megalomaniacs he had met all seemed to have one thing in common. Once you got them talking, they rambled like they were drunk. Hell, he was willing to bet that if he had asked, Fisk would have told him what his social security number was. When it was finished, he looked to Felicia, who gave him a silent thumb's up. Nodding, he slid down the wall, coming to rest in front of the disgraced doctor. "The room is now on a loop, I figure we've got only a few minutes before security might notice something. So what do you think?"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I am telling you this because I thought you would want to know."

"That may be true dear boy," he watched as the doctor stood and moved, the arms extending and shrinking to accommodate him. "But you know what I am. I am a killer, who just found out that the man whom he worked for was paying him to be humiliated. You also know that I know the same man I just spoke of will be sent here most likely after he is arraigned. I may be a man of science, but I am still a man with an ego. How do I know that you won't just swoop in to stop me from delivering the final blow when he arrives."

With a sigh, Peter chose his words carefully. Felicia told him that he could be a silver-tongued devil when he wanted to be, he just hoped that it would work this time. "I told you this because I wanted you to know that this man, no matter how he acts, is not your friend. When he arrives, he will be powerless and will want protection. Many people have wound up here because of his actions, or the lack thereof. What happens if you meet him, I don't know. I just hope you'll make the right decision." He crawled back up to the wall and turned back for a only a moment. "I suggest that you get back to where you were. The loop will be disconnected in thirty seconds." He didn't wait for a response, Felicia was already re-hacking the system, they had to find several others before they left. Hell, like Octavious, they all deserved to know what their employer thought of them, right?

* * *

><p>For Wilson Fisk, life had truly gone down the drain. He was angry at himself for underestimating that masked menace. It was bad enough that he awoke from his pain-induced slumber by federal agents, but was even worse so that the judge, whom he had deemed bribable, was not. He now found himself being led away from the booking area, when the lights flashed and sirens blared. He took this as a moment to strike. He knew that his people wouldn't abandon him. So he would have to leave this life behind, that was acceptable. He had more than enough aliases and finances to live happily wherever he went.<p>

When his escort was successfully subdued, he simply followed his way back to intake. As expected, he found that all personnel were in various states of injury or unconsciousness. That was when he heard the sound. A dull clank was filling the room, and soon, he saw Octavious. The man had done well during his incarceration. He had somehow managed to keep his strength and his sanity; it was showing since he seemed keen on helping his escape. "Mr. Fisk, come, we do not have much time." He didn't even give him a chance to speak as he was lifted. Fisk was confused when the turned back towards the interior of the prison, but didn't show it. The man had a plan, who was he to question it.

Eventually, they had arrived at what Fisk considered the exercise yard. Stranger still was the reception waiting for them. He recognized them all, every single man he had ever given money to in exchange for blood was assembled there. He wasn't expecting it when he was unceremoniously dumped into the center of the group. "Mr. Fisk," he watched as Octavious settled himself into the circle with him, a demented grin plastered to his face. "I recently learned what you find entertaining," his blood paled as one of his mechanical arms produced a lethal-looking needle. "It is time you learn what makes us smile," he dragged the point slowly over his face. When Fisk closed his eyes, he felt its point settle over his eye. "Any last words?"

"Damn you Spider-Man."

* * *

><p>Peter was grinning like a mad man as he read the newest edition of the Bugle. It was the exact evening after the riot at Hell's Gate prison that left only one man dead, Wilson Fisk. The paper even went so far as to say the only reason they were able to identify who it was, was because he was the only inmate that was not breathing. <em>Peter, we have something to discuss.<em>

He huffed out a breath and released the paper he was holding into the breeze. He had settled himself on the now abandoned Fisk building, watching the police, along with the FBI, CIA ATFE, and ICE as they emptied it out. He felt that this was a good place to be. If anyone saw him, they would now know that he had taken down the city's biggest threat, anyone else would be easy pickings. "What is it Alpha?" _I just wanted to make you aware of a few things. _"And what would those be?" _The first is that, with the King Pin now dead, there is an open seat of power. _He nodded at this; after all, it was to be expected. People would come from all over to try and take the city. "Then I'll take them down, what are your other worries?" He dove off now, the action below them was dying down and he needed to clear his head.

_What do you think shield will do when they find out and I do me _when_?_ He mulled that over, and couldn't really think of an answer. Fury was a man who looked at the world as black and white. Peter doubted that the man would see any grey when he found out about this. "We'll burn that bridge when we get there. Any other problems?" That was when she started to laugh. When Alpha laughed, Peter couldn't help but feel that he was about to be royally screwed. The sound of her happiness just messed with him too much. _This is just a little food for thought, nothing to panic about. _"Than what is it?" _How many times would you say that you and Felicia had been, shall we say, intimate? _"You're asking stupid questions. You've been there every time. Okay, that sounded more messed up than I meant it to." Her reply was again, a laugh. _The only reason I asked why is because, in all those times, how many times did you take a second to pull back and wrap it up?_

He missed the building he was aiming for and fell, eventually though, his mind started to work again and he caught himself. She was right, he knew that much. It was something so simple, something that he pounded into the minds of his students, and yet he hadn't done a single thing that he should have. _Nothing to say on the matter Peter? _His minded drifted back to an encounter he once had with a guy who called himself Deadpool. The guy was a talker, no denying that, but what stuck out to Peter was what he had said after he finally caught him. He had tied him up in webbing, and had taken the time to destroy his teleporter. The guy was completely helpless and he just muttered something that was comical at the time. Now though, he could relate to what the man had said. _Well? _"Fuck me gently."

* * *

><p>There you go, the end of <em>Starting Over.<em> There is a quick epilogue that will be posted. Just a few ideas I had been playing around with. Please review, it makes me feel proud, and please, enjoy the epilogue. Anyway, until next posting, take it easy, -N.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

First of all, I want to thank everyone who reviewed and was a loyal reader. So, here is a little treat; just a few hints of what I might put into the sequel. Read, enjoy, and tell me what you think. –N.

* * *

><p>"Report, how did this happen?" People were scrambling around him. It was unexpected; a mass riot at Hell's Gate, but deep down, he knew that it was going to happen eventually. He had insisted that all the inmates be turned over to him. But no, the city insisted that those people were their responsibility. That they could manufacture an enclosure strong enough to contain those people. Looking at what the satellite feed was showing, that was clearly not the case. "Sir," he turned to one of the privates. Under normal circumstances, he would have addressed the kid by name, but now, with hell breaking loose in New York, his mind was on more important things.<p>

"What is it?"

"We've detected a large amount of electromagnetic interference. It looks like it was used to trigger a ten second shutdown of the prison's containment systems." He nodded. It was simple and easy to accomplish. The device was small and concealable. It could have been left anywhere in the complex with a timer or remotely detonated, either way it worked.

"Has anyone left the area yet?"

"No sir, they have all moved to the interior." It didn't make since, why, when they have a clear shot at freedom would they stay?

"Bring up all surveillance footage from the area in the last seventy two hours." He watched as the images were fed to the main screen. Wordlessly, his underlings sped them up, and his eye moved with them. There had to be outside help, no way could this have been pulled off from the inside. "Freeze it, there!" He could make something out, just near the perimeter of the building. "Zoom in and enhance." When the image cleared, he let out a growl, and called his security forces to him. "Bring him here, alive. I want answers."

"Yes sir, Fury sir."

* * *

><p>She was at her throne, when the message came through to her. Wilson Fisk had been killed in a prison riot, where he was being held on charges of larceny, murder, terror, and various other charges. It was rather disappointing to her; she could imagine what kind of bounty would have been put out to bring him back. However, what was done is done. The man was dead, that was all that mattered.<p>

"My Queen, I've brought what you requested." She turned and saw him, a member of her loyal pack. She held out her hand, and wordlessly, he passed the envelope to her. It was true, she realized. Spider-Man was sporting black again. According to her sources, he was also much more forceful, more willing to spill blood. It made her smile and turned to the throne next to hers. "Prepare my private jet, and ready the pack, we are going to America." He nodded and turned, stopping only for clarification.

"My Queen, will this be a retrieval mission?"

"No, this will simply be a scouting affair, to locate a possible new recruit to the pack." He nodded once more, and turned to leave her. When he was gone, she turned back to the empty seat beside her. Her people had been pressuring her for some time to produce an heir, and perhaps, her hand absently stroked the photo in her lap. Perhaps she could get the Spider to change his color from black to silver.

* * *

><p>He didn't know where he was, and frankly, he didn't care. He knew he wasn't dead. It was a fact that he could never really die, just return to the earth, his true mother. How long he had slept, he wasn't really sure, all he knew now was that he was weak. He remembered how Spider-Man had defeated him, how he had used his own hunger against him. He took a deep breath then, and could smell his power. It had changed, and was far away, but that power was still there. He was too weak now though, he wouldn't stand a chance against his power.<p>

He had clawed his way out of the dirt then, and turned to the west, to where the great king resided. That was a manageable meal. He would feed there and recover, then when he was strong enough, he would take what was his, and the Spider-Man would be no more.

* * *

><p>Just a few hints to make you wonder what you can look forward when Spider-Man returns. Hope you enjoyed, and I will hopefully not take too long a break from this. Thanks again for the reviews, its been fun.<p>

Take it Easy,

-N


	12. To All My Readers

To all my readers,

I just wanted to get this out know while I have the chance. First, thank you to all who have ever read any of my works, and apologies for not writing more, or more often. I have recently been given an opportunity to move back to my home state for work, and during my move, I lost all track of time. I was planning on continuing once I got settled in, but again it seems that I am the fates' plaything. I received a call a few days ago from my new employer offering me a once and a lifetime chance to truly do something good for my city, and I agreed to take it.

I have no problem doing this, for I willingly entered this field, and have loved every second of it. That being said, I'm afraid that I don't know when I will be able to write again. I have spoken with a good friend of mine, and she is more than happy to take over the huge task of writing any necessary sequels. I also want to give out a shout to **DarvosFan**, she has your ideas, and hopefully you should hear something from her shortly.

Again, thanks again for all the reviews and assistance. I hope to write again soon. A heads up though, she will be publishing a few of her own works, namely Harry Potter. Please don't hate me for what the girl enjoy. Anyways, hopefully I'll be writing again soon, and please, be kind to her. She really means a lot to me.

Take it Easy,

-N


End file.
